


When Sorrows Come

by Cornerofmadness



Series: Sorrows [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Ed, Al and Alt!Maes settle into life in Amestris, they have to help Roy in his role as ambassador whose main duties are to speed along the Ishbalan homeland restoration. In the middle of this, a series killer seems desperate to get Mustang’s attention while Riza is no longer always at his side, guarding, instead, the new Fuhrer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer -- Arakawa owns all, I’m just having lots of fun.  
>  **Timeline/Spoilers** \-- Technically it’s a few years post CoS with manga elements  
>  **genre** mystery/suspense  
>  **Warning** \-- violence and descriptions of murder.   
> **Author’s Note** \-- Thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta. Thanks to both Yuukihikari and soraina_skye for the art! Thanks, also, to my flist for all the cheering on! While technically this is part of a series that includes _Source of Sorrow_ and _Sorrow’s Dark Array_ this is a stand alone story. As mentioned above, this is a hybrid first anime/manga story. All the events of the first anime stand and the additions are Xing as a country and Olivia Armstrong as Fuhrer. As Roy is working with the Ishbalans and about the only named one in the first anime was Scar, the ones here are OC’s (seen also in the two other stories).

_When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions!” – William Shakespeare_

XXX

“Maybe we should have just called,” Uzziel said, shuffling his feet on the Mustangs’ snowy porch. The old Ishbalan pulled his coat tighter to his body.

“We did,” Dev replied, waving a hand between him and Edward. “Mustang mumbled something like he was dying and for me to drop dead first.”

“He’s just blowing off work again.” Ed scowled, working the key in the lock. “So we’re bringing it to him. Hughes thinks he knows what happened to that lost food supply to Ishbal, and Mrs. Jasso needed to talk to him about getting doctors and nurses for the new hospital.” He swept a hand back to the older woman bringing up the rear.

“Yes, but it could have waited,” she replied. “He probably has a reason for not coming into the office.”

“Yeah, he’s lazy,” Dev snorted as Ed got the door open.

The alchemist led the Ishbalans into the marble foyer. Hayate bounded around the corner, taking a playful leap at Ed, who finally managed to successfully sidestep the dog. Skidding into Dev’s cane, Hayate nearly took the young Ishablan priest down. Hayate barked at them all, and Riza came out into the foyer to see what the fuss was about. Her eyes widened at the sight of them all. “I wasn’t expecting company,” she said, regaining her equilibrium. 

“Didn’t your husband tell you he decided not to work today?” Ed asked.

“Yes, but didn’t he tell you why?”

“Just that he was dying and for me and Ed to go first.” Dev shrugged. “So we brought work to him.”

The tinkling of a bell sounded from the other room, making Riza frown. “Oh, he might just die at that.” She whipped around, stalking back into the living room.

They followed her into the richly appointed room. A fire blazed in the marble fireplace that Ed always joked was big enough to roast a cow. Mustang was curled up on the couch with a few bed pillows stacked under him. He had a crazy quilt tucked up to his chin and a handkerchief clutched in his hand. A bag of them, well used, rested on the floor within his reach. Roy coughed so hard, he nearly doubled up.

“Ew, he _is_ dying.” Dev grimaced.

“Well, go do your business before he dies,” Riza replied.

“I’m not going anywhere near that,” Dev protested, waving his hand toward the dying man.

“Me either.” Ed took a step backward, his lip curling up. “Hughes can come report to him on his own.”

“Honestly, boys.” Dev’s mother brushed past them to rest a hand on Roy’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Told you I was dying,” Roy whined.

“Not fast enough, brother,” Li-Ying said, coming into the room with a steaming bowl. “The doc’s already been out to see him, Mrs. Jasso. He should be in bed, but then he can’t be nosy in there.” She shot her brother a look.

“He’s taken something for his fever?” she asked.

“Just because you’re a nurse, Mom, doesn’t mean you have to fuss over him,” Dev said.

I'm not going to sit in there and breathe this air.” Ed wrinkled his nose. “Let me know if he dies. I'm going to see if Hughes needs me to do anything, then I’m going home.”

“That's not a bad idea. The work can wait,” Dev said.

“Sorry there was a breakdown in communications,” Riza said. “It's ugly weather to be and about.”

“The Shepard’s Almanac says it’ll be a bad winter.” Uzziel said, casting a glance at the window. “Seems to be right. As the young man said, let us know if the ambassador passes.”

“No one cares,” Roy sniffled.

Hala gave him a sympathetic pat. “They do care. They just care more about not getting sick.”

“You will miss me when I'm gone.” Roy pouted, pulling the quilt up closer to his throat.

“That's the part that worries me the most,” Dev said.

“All right, we'll go. You can just let Hayate gnaw on the corpse when he dies, Riza,” Ed said.

“If he keeps ringing that bell, I will,” she replied, ignoring the wounded look Roy sent her way.

Once they were all back outside again, the wind turned Ed’s automail into cold-conducting torture devices. He almost wished that he'd braved catching whatever creeping crud Mustang had. “Can you drop me off at the base?” Ed asked the Ishbalans. Aris had driven the large car they'd packed into like tinned fish.

“It won't be a problem.”

Ed only half-listened to the snatches of conversation, mostly about rebuilding Ishbal. While he was technically Mustang's man and the general was the Ishbalan ambassador, Mustang had loaned Ed to Investigations, making him Hughes's problem. Ed didn't mind. He knew Mustang was trying to be less dickish than usual with the gesture. He did wonder, though, if Mustang wanted to him to keep tabs on this Hughes – Meinhard, not Maes – that Al and he had accidentally brought back from Germany. Meinhard had been shoehorned into the dead man's life. Ed had been surprised that both Mustang and Gracia had been so accepting of Al’s and his blunder, that there had been a life for Hughes, for him and Alphonse, too.

Ed didn't quite know what his life would be once his three years in the military were over with, but at least his brother was moving forward. After all, Al had been through, Ed was glad to see it.

“Ed?”

He shook his head, realizing that Dev had been talking to him. “Sorry, my mind was somewhere else,” Ed apologized.

“I was saying we’re at the base. And if it’s not freezing tomorrow, do you and your brother want to come to the Winking Lizard? They have that band Mustang likes. They’re good. I figure you might be bored now that Winry’s out of town,” Dev said.

“I’ll think about it and let you know. Al’s up to his eyes in his studies. He thinks he can get into medical school by next year if he completes an ungodly amount of classes between then and now.” Ed rolled his eyes. His brother had brains enough to do this easily, but Al could get so worked up about it. He was always so sure he failed the exam only to get a hundred percent. 

Dev nodded. “Yeah, he’s been after me and Aris for Ishbalan healing herbs and Miao-Yin for Xingese secrets.” The priest scowled. “Among other things.”

Ed slapped Dev across the chest. “Just keep reminding yourself she’s an alchemist and related to Mustang.”

“Not fair. A beautiful girl likes me and she’s off limits because she’s an alchemist.” Dev huffed.

“A small price to pay for your faith,” Uzziel said from the front seat.

“Easy for you to say old man,” Dev grumbled. “Guess Al has no competition from me for Miao-Yin.”

Ed laughed and slid out of the car with a thank you. He didn’t wait for the Ishbalans to pull away from the curb. It was shaping up to be a miserable winter and he wanted out of it. Winry promised him cold-weather automail upon her return, but even that would conduct cold deep to his core. The docking port around his thigh transmitted the chill right to his groin until it felt like his balls had crawled up behind his belly button for warmth, and his cock resembled a button, or at least that’s how it felt.

He hustled into the building and down to the office he shared with Armstrong and Sciezka. He had been surprised to see her still working with the military when he first started. Hughes’s office adjoined their anteroom. His door was closed when Ed walked in.

Ed jerked his head toward the door. “Hughes in?”

“Yes, well, he was on the phone trying to get hold of General Mustang,” Sciezka replied.

“He’s at home, whining that he’s dying of a cold. I’ll go tell Hughes.”

“Poor Flame.” Armstrong clucked without looking up from his work. “Perhaps I should take him some generationally inspired chicken soup.”

“He’s milking it,” Ed sniffed, knocking on Hughes’s door, barging in before the investigator could answer.

Hughes cocked up an eyebrow. “Yes, Ed?” 

“I got nowhere with Mustang. I tracked him home, but he should be dead by now according to him.” Ed shrugged.

“What? Does he have a sniffle? He’s so dramatic.” Hughes chuckled.

“Look who’s talking.” Ed snorted, putting a hand on the messy stacks of papers on Hughes’s desk. “You both are crazy.”

Hughes smirked. “Talking like that about your superiors can get you an official reprimand.”

Ed’s eyes glittered as he swung into the chair in front of Hughes’s desk. He tipped back on two legs. “Superiors in rank only.”

“I see you want to assist on the case where stolen goods were recovered in a sewer.”

Ed’s chair thumped down and his expression twisted into a snarl. “Are you serious?”

About the stolen goods? No, so behave yourself.” Hughes rocked back on his chair, mimicking Ed.

Ed snorted. “I’m always behaved.”

“Do I have to take out the lists of grievances again?”

Ed waved him off. “Just tell me what else I need to do.”

“I planned on you being with Mustang today. Why don’t you catch up on your paperwork and we’ll call it a day for you unless, of course, you want to help with the sewer case.”

“Not unless there’s no other choice.” Ed tugged on his uniform’s collar. He’d never get used to it. No wonder Mustang was such a miserable bastard. The Amestrian uniforms were constrictive and heavy. He was grateful – not that he’d admit it – that Mustang hadn’t made him wear the uniform before. Ed received no such largesse now, but all in all, three years of duty wasn’t much to ask for the restoration of his and Al’s lives in Central.

That thought didn’t make the uniforms any more comfortable. At least, the warmth they provided was finally welcome, but in his six months of wearing them so far, that hadn’t always been the case. Ed had been half-afraid he’d have to tell Winry his docking port shorted out from the salts of the ball sweat rolling down his thighs.

Hughes rolled his shoulders. “Finish up your paperwork. If nothing new pops up, I’ll okay you going home early.”

Ed's nose wrinkled as he drummed his metal fingers on Hughes’s cluttered desk. “That won’t get me out of here early. Have you _seen_ my paperwork?”

“I have noticed it’s higher than you are tall.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Takes more than that to rile me up now.” It was true. He’d finally grown and was about the same height as Mustang, which wasn’t quite as tall as he’d like. Hohenheim had been so tall and broad, dammit, and Al was, too. What happened to him? It didn’t help that he worked with Hughes and Armstrong in this office, both of them freakishly tall, and in Mustang’s office, he worked with Dev. The Ishbalan priest and Ed’s oft-times co-conspirator was even taller than Hughes. Ed wasn’t short, he just worked with people who were giants.

“Progress, then.” Hughes smiled. “And when you go home tonight, tell Al that Gracia wants you two to come over for dinner.”

“Is she up to it?”

“She feels fine. No morning sickness yet.” Hughes caught Ed up in an one-armed embrace. “Can you believe it? Is my Gracia not the paragon of motherly perfection?”

Ed snorted. “Don’t know what was the scarier idea, you having a kid or Mustang. Guess you win, since it’s already happened.” He wished he’d have bit his tongue before those words came out. Hughes’s eyes dulled. Amestris’s Gracia had lost her Hughes. Germany’s Hughes had lost his Gracia and their unborn child. “Sorry.” 

“It’s all right.” Hughes’s lips twitched. “For my money, Roy being a father is much more terrifying.”

Ed nodded. “Unthinkable, and it’s just that you’ll be inflicting double the photos on us now.”

Hughes laughed. “I will.”

“I’m using my state alchemy salary to buy a photography shop. When I retire in three years, you alone will have already made me a rich man,” Ed said.

Hughes snorted at him and pointed to the door. Ed went back to this desk, settling in to work.

XXX

The only light on in the small home he shared with his brother was upstairs. Al was probably holed up, studying his brains out. Ed wondered if Al had eaten or had anything left over. It was a little earlier than Ed usually got home, but it was still dark as midnight out.

Ed scurried inside, disappointed that the warm air of the cottage held no scents that suggested dinner. Flicking on a hall light, Ed dragged upstairs to see what Al was doing. He ditched off his uniform jacket, draping it over the railing. He got two steps up the staircase when something zoomed between his legs, nearly toppling him over.

Ragazza Bella, Al’s cat, stopped at the top of the stairs, meowing as if she was disappointed she hadn’t killed him.

“Damn it, Al! That furball tried to murder me!”

“Not hard enough,” Al shot back from his room.

The one thing that truly differed between Al now and when he was younger, besides the armor body, was this Al had a smart mouth, probably from years of hanging around his big brother. Ed sighed. “Very funny, Al. You’ll cry when Rags finally kills me. Have you eaten?” He rounded the corner to his brother’s room. As expected, Al’s bed was covered with books.

Their small, military-owned cottage did have a library, but by the time they reconstituted their alchemic collection, there wasn’t much room left over for Al’s studies. Also, Al didn’t want to be running up and down the stairs in the middle of the night and risk waking his brother.

“Too busy memorizing the muscles of the body. Why does anatomy class have more words to learn than I had when I was trying to figure out German or Italian?” He threw a pencil down, making it bounce off the bed.

Ed chucked Al’s shoulder. “You enjoy it.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. Besides, Winry knew most of these before she was ten, so I can’t do worse than she does, or she’ll never let me hear the end of it.” Al grinned. “Provided you haven’t frightened her away for good.”

Ed snorted. “Not a chance. So, do we even have food in the house? It’s cold as hell. I don’t want to go back out there.”

“I think we have eggs. We were supposed to go to the grocer.”

Ed glanced at the frost-flowered window over his brother’s shoulder. “It’s early still. The grocer is open. We should probably go out and do that now. We can grab something at the deli on the way back.”

Al nodded and got up to find his shoes. Ed went back down the steps and put the uniform jacket and his overcoat back on. Might as well tramp down there in his military clodhoppers. Al came downstairs, told Rags to be a good cat, as if that was possible, and followed Ed out into the night.

“If you want to practice your medical skills, you could go to Mustang’s. He claims he’s dying,” Ed said.

“Is he?” Al adjusted his scarf around his neck, glancing over curiously. 

“He has a cold or something.” Ed shrugged. “What he is, is a big baby.”

Al nudged him. “Be nice. You’re not exactly a prince when you’re sick. There were times I wanted to just sit on you and let the armor do its work.”

Ed shoved back. “Thanks for nothing. Do you think it’s cold like this out in the desert where Winry is?”

Al glanced east as if he could see where Winry was, helping to round up volunteers in Rush Valley to staff the first automail clinics in the new Ishbalan homeland. “It gets cold there, so maybe. Probably not as bad as this. She’ll be home soon, Ed.”

“I know. I just miss her.” He missed everything about her. Now he understood why his brother used to get so goopy with Ziata. He couldn’t see Al’s face well in the washed-out light from the street lamps, but he worried about his brother. He wished he really knew what Al thought, seeing his brother in a relationship when his own ended so tragically. Al said that he was very happy for them and Ed mostly believed it, but there was that niggling doubt. “You okay, Al?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Al picked up the pace just a bit or was that Ed’s imagination?

“You’ve been studying too hard,” Ed replied, lame but true.

“I’m fine. Come on, hurry it up. You’re right. It is cold out here.”

Ed let his brother hurry him along to the grocer. His stomach was going to guarantee a hefty bill. He’d worry about the rest another time.

XXX

He didn’t know what it was about combat boots that made him so weak in the knees. There were so many lovelier shoes that a woman could put on her feet, and he loved those as well, but few were as treasured as the boot. Maybe it was the thought of what that boot could do to him that got him all hot and bothered. He couldn’t resist a woman in uniform.

As carefully as his automail hand could, he set the boot aside. The mate to it was far bloodier and he didn’t care to take it home with him. Hearing a noise at the mouth of the alley, he froze. This was wrong. This wasn’t how he envisioned it. He wasn’t supposed to get caught. 

The sound moved off and he crept out of the alley, leaving her there. She looked peaceful, now that he’d pulled her trousers back up. He would have to find another way of getting his prizes. This was too risky, bloodier than he had thought it would be. Harder too, but that had only made it more exciting. He hadn't even had time to dedicate it like he wanted to. He would do better next time.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“Should you even be at work?” Maes hung back, not wanting to cross the threshold into Roy’s office. The small room had too many windows and not enough file cabinets. Paper covered most of the available surfaces.

“We’ve been asking that all morning,” Dev offered from the anteroom where he was going over paperwork with Edward. The anteroom was large, round with a small break area under the single large window.

“He looks like he actually did die,” the alchemist added.

“My sister tried to cure me with something disgusting from Xing,” Roy moaned, huddled up on his desk chair. He had a doctor’s mask over his mouth and nose, and Maes didn’t even want to know where he got it from. “I had to escape.” Coughing loudly, Roy doubled up. “Don’t tell Riza.”

“Do you think there is any chance that your sister hasn’t already ratted you out to her and that she’s on her way here?” Maes asked, deciding it was safest to just stay in the doorway.

“Why did you pop by, Hughes? I already have two tormentors.” Roy waved in the general direction he assumed Dev and Ed were in.

“I wanted your advice.” There was nothing to be done for it. Maes stepped inside and shut the door. “And when I called your house, your sister informed me of the jailbreak.”

“What is it? I’m in no mood.”

“No, you should be picking out caskets from the looks of you,” Maes smirked and Roy gave him a look that should have killed him on the spot. “I wanted to borrow Ed for a big case.”

“I’ve already loaned him to you. You could have just called him in.”

“This is different. I’m en route to the murder of female sergeant.” Maes ran his fingers over his stubbly chin. “I’ve never given Ed a case like this. Armstrong is already there, and he said it’s pretty gruesome. Ed’s young, sensitive.”

Roy tried to snort at that, choked a little, then fumbled for his handkerchief. He shoved his mask aside, coughing into the distressed linen.

Fixing him with a look, Maes said, “He _is_ about stuff like this and you know it.” He let Roy think about that for a few seconds. “Do you think he can handle it?”

Roy nodded. “Ed is tough and he seems to like your work. I think he’d like being a part of it. If I’m wrong, he’ll tell you… _loudly_. He might feel left out if you don’t bring him along.”

Maes sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

Roy leaned forward on the desk and Maes took another step back. The bags under the alchemist’s eyes and the pallor of his skin suggested he had escaped from a funeral parlor. “Hughes, if he does badly, let me know. I may have to find another job for him other than Investigations.”

Hughes nodded, half turning as he fumbled the door open. “I think I’ll leave for the scene now. Your wife and sister have arrived. It doesn’t look good for you, my friend.”

Roy melted onto the desk as the two women sidled past Hughes. Maes decided he could hesitate just a few moments to let Ed enjoy what came next. 

“Roy, is there any reason in the world that you’re behind that desk?” Riza’s toe tapped out each word.

Roy pointed a finger at Li-Ying. “She’s trying to poison me with rat wine.”

“What a baby you are!” His sister rolled her eyes.

“The doctor called to see how you were and I told Knox you’d escaped. He told me to fetch you back before you need his usual medical services.” Riza loomed over Roy and he slithered down in his chair. Maes shook his head at the man, not even bother to hide his grin. “You have pneumonia. You’re going home and, if Li-Ying wants to give you rat wine, you can always just say no.”

“Ha, you have no idea.” Roy stabbed a finger at her.

Maes crossed the room, taking his friend’s elbow, easing him up out of his chair. “Let’s go buddy. Let Riza take you home. You’re not doing yourself any good here, and if we get sick, we will make you suffer.”

Roy pouted. “Home alone, I might die or Li-Ying might poison me.”

“I took a day off.” Riza took his hand.

His dulled eyes gleamed a little. “That'll be better. Maes, what we talked about, if it's too much find him something else like that sewer stash.”

“I think I see why he hates you.” Maes smirked.

Roy managed to laugh then dissolved into coughing as he shuffled out with the women.

Maes went over and beckoned to Ed. “We have a case to investigate. It's a murder. Do you think you want to assist with this?”

“Murder?” Ed's pupils dilated and Hughes wondered if he had made a mistake. Maybe Ed wasn't ready and he shouldn't have let Roy give him permission to ask.

“If you rather work the other case-”

“The sewer?”

“Yes.”

“No. I've seen dead bodies before,” Ed replied too matter-of-factly.

Maes nodded, noticing Dev’s intent look. The young priest looked as if he had a question but he did ask it. “All right then. Armstrong is already there. Let’s go.”

XXX

It took Maes a minute to realize that Ed was calling his name. His thoughts were on the dead woman in front of him. At least the young man called him by his surname. Meinhard was still having trouble remembering his name was Maes now. It was most unsettling at home, hearing the foreign name coming from his wife's mouth. He was only now thinking of himself as Maes. He turned to look at the alchemist. “Yes?”

“What kind of person does this?” Ed's eyes were on the woman's blood-soaked chest. It was impossible to tell how many times she had been stabbed, but Hughes guessed it had to be many. The cuts were very fine, almost surgical in appearance.  
[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v671/VampDicons/?action=view&current=blood_and_snow_by_flower_in_the_light-d4shsmg.jpg)

Art by her deviant art page is [ here](http://flower-in-the-light.deviantart.com/#/d4shsmg%20)

“That's what we're here to find out,” he scrubbed a hand over his hair, “though it never makes much sense, even when we do find them, Ed.”

“Have you noticed,” Armstrong started, but Maes held up a hand.

“Edward, do you notice anything odd about this?”

“Everything's odd about a dead woman in an alley,” Ed replied, his brow wrinkling. “It's not as awful as Nina's death, though, and that's odd I think that.”

Nina? One more story Maes Hughes probably knew that Meinhard Hughes would have to learn. “Every death is different.”

“She's missing a boot,” he pointed, “and it's freezing out. Why would her killer take her boot?” Ed asked.

“It means something to him,” Armstrong said. “That's what I think. If she ran from the killer, she wouldn't run out of her boots, not like a woman in heels might.”

“The question becomes why are the boots important to him, and are they important to us in finding whoever did this?” Maes squatted down next to her, peering more closely at a smudge on her jacket lapel. “This needs to be examined as well.”

Ed’s nose wrinkled and he glanced at his gloved hands. “That actually looks a little like automail oil. If I don’t do regular maintenance, it’ll leak or in the cold like this, when you need a heavier oil, it’s impossible to get it all off.”

“I’ll pass that along,” Maes said. “I’ll make sure Dr. Knox sends the jacket to the lab.”

“We’ll have to wait for the doctor to tell us more about her death beyond the obvious,” Armstrong said, then handed a tablet to Ed. He had sketched out the crime scene. “Does this look accurate?”

Maes had seen Armstrong’s art. The man had drawn a heartachingly accurate sketch of Gracia holding Elicia one slow day in the office. The huge alchemist liked to keep a pad filled with notes and illustrations, just in case the photos didn’t come out well. Maes looked over Ed’s shoulder at the tragic picture.

Ed nodded. “Yeah.” He handed the tablet back then turned to Maes. “What happens now?”

“I already have men talking to any possible witnesses,” Armstrong answered before Maes could. “But this is the business district. No one lives around here and the best we can do for someone who might have heard anything is in the bar down the street.”

“Did they tell you anything?” Ed peered down the street to the bar Armstrong pointed at, the Bitter End. A small crowd had gathered outside it, trying to sneak around the soldiers keeping them at bay. Why they would want to see this, he didn’t know.

“I am afraid not, Edward.”

“I think Ed and I will follow up. You can be a bit intimidating, Lieutenant Colonel,” Maes said and Armstrong’s mustache drooped. “Sorry. Why don’t you go back, get out of the cold and find out who Sergeant Cooper worked for, why she might have been down here last night, and who her friends were.”

The big man nodded, his hat almost slipping off his bald pate. “I’ll have Lieutenant Ross help me.”

“Good.” 

“Edward, have you spoken to Flame? His sister was worried,” Armstrong said, yanking on his gloves.

Ed rolled his eyes in answer. “The idiot came into the office and she fetched him back. Hawkeye said he has pneumonia, and now Maes and I probably do, too, thanks to him hacking up a lung all over the office,” Ed groused.

“Poor man,” Armstrong wagged his head.

Maes watched Armstrong head off before putting a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Are you okay, Ed?”

The young man nodded then grimaced. “Yes and no. I mean, I’m not okay with this, but I can handle it if that’s what you mean. What? Did the bastard say I couldn’t do this?”

“No, Roy said you’d be fine.”

Ed huffed. “Yeah, he probably would. You’re the one who worries. I’m tough, Hughes. I might not get why someone does this, and I can see where that might be a problem. I’ll work on it. Al always says I have an evil mind.”

Maes snorted. “It helps if you can at least think a little like a criminal.”

“Mustang should have been in investigations then.” Ed smirked, but it faded as he glanced up at Maes. “I’ll be okay, Hughes. I don’t like this, but that just means I want to make sure this person doesn’t do this again.”

“Sometimes it’s easy. Just don’t be disappointed if it’s not.”

“I’m fine with challenges.”

Maes didn’t doubt it.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“Dev, did you hear back from that contractor yet?” Roy looked at the files on his desk. If they got any higher, he wouldn’t be able to see out into the anteroom where his men worked. He could trust Fuery and Falman, but if Havoc thought he couldn’t see him, he’d start in with Breda, goofing around. It didn’t help that Mera and Dev where working out of his office today. Dammit where was his file? They had only moved into these new quarters a month ago, and he swore he didn’t know where half his stuff was.

“They said it’ll be another three weeks before the apartments on Hickory Ridge Lane are ready,” the young priest said. “And they wanted to talk about building more Ishbalan housing three blocks over.”

“Do we have enough people wanting to stay in the city?” Mera asked. “A lot of the scuttlebutt around the center is about going back to the desert, though I can’t see everyone leaving here.”

“I’d say more people will leave than will stay, but enough should stay for another apartment complex. Most people my age and younger haven’t had access to formal education. Now that they can get training here, they’ll need a place to live.” Dev leaned his cheek against his hand. 

Roy’s lip curled. “Housing for teens, there’s a thankless job. Might as well house them in a barn, given the wreckage they’ll leave behind.”

“Nice,” Mera sniffed.

Roy shrugged. “I went to the Academy, I know what teens in close quarters do.”

“Each other, if the rumors about you are true,” Dev said and Havoc snickered.

“Havoc, go take a smoke break, _outside_.” Roy jerked a hand toward the door.

Havoc’s face fell. “Aw, boss, it’s freezing out there.”

“Doctor said, I’m not supposed to breathing in smoke yet. You can contemplate this the next time you’re tempted to laugh at me.” Roy smirked.

Havoc dug his cigarettes out of his desk drawer. “Having pneumonia’s made you mean,” he grumbled on his way out.

Mera went over to the little stove Mustang had finagled for the office to go with the small sink and ice chest . He had convinced his higher ups that having a rest area inside the building would actually increase productivity. She put the kettle on before coming over to where Roy stood in the doorway to his office. “Are you okay? You said you were better,” she said in a whisper.

“I’m just milking it. Don’t want to breathe in all that smoke.” Roy shrugged then turned back to Dev. “Why don’t you and Mera get together on the pros and cons of adding the apartments. Mera, type it up.

“Fine. Just keep in mind I’m not Dev’s secretary.” She eyed the young priest. “When do you think you’ll have control over that metal hand enough to type?”

“Hopefully never,” Dev replied cheerfully, flexing his automail fingers. “I plan on sliding right into bossy-pants’s position and give the orders and do no actual work.”

“You can go outside on a smoke break, too, you know.” Roy leveled a glare at Dev.

“I don’t smoke.”

“I don’t care.”

“General, here, I have the latest census reports. You asked for them last week,” Falman said, coming over with the paperwork. “They might help Dev and Mera to try and determine how many Ishbalans within the city limits are the right age to enroll in college or training programs.”

“Good idea. You can work with them. Breda, didn’t General Husted have something he wanted the team to do?”

“He wanted to go over troop assignments,” Breda replied.

“I’ll get on that now.” Roy sighed. Juggling two jobs was more tiring than he anticipated. He was still General Mustang, but also the so-called ambassador to Ishbal. It would only last until he was expected to move to an embassy within their desert homeland. He’d go back there to help rebuild, but not to live. He didn’t think he could stand the guilt, and Roy knew at least half of the Ishbalans would see it as an insult.

Dev, Mera and Aris did a good job of coordinating the rebuilding in the desert and in the Ishbalan quarter of Central. Roy was determined to give it new life. Buildings that could be saved would be remodeled. Those that couldn’t, would be removed. It had been less than two decades since it had fallen from a small but vibrant part of Central into a slum, so it shouldn’t be that hard.

Trying to rebuild entire Ishbalan cities was much harder, but the largest of them was well underway, at least on paper. Dev’s mother was doing a good job in directing the building of a hospital, and she had rounded up an entire class full of want-to-be nurses. Uzziel and Aris were handling the design of the temple there, and Dev and Kennan were working on rebuilding the one that Dev’s sort of girlfriend had blown up in town earlier in the year.

“I wish I had Ed’s job some days,” Dev sighed, taking the census documents from Falman and breaking Roy free of his thoughts of city planning.

“He’s stuck working a murder that they haven’t made progress on in over two weeks,” Roy reminded him. “And he did end up in the sewers on the burglary investigation.”

“He still blames you for that,” Dev said. “Though investigations does seem interesting.”

“I know Ed does. Well, Winry’s finally back, and that’ll relax him. We shouldn’t hear a rant for at least another week,” Roy replied then grimaced. Sometimes it was just so damn awkward. Dev was friends with Winry and Ed, but being Winry’s ex made things strange, about as strange as it was with Riza and him being friends with Mera. He needed to find Dev a decent girlfriend – not his niece – but so far, the young man ignored his suggestions. Dev couldn’t be left to his own devices any more than Mera. She picked men who beat her, and, except for Winry whom Roy had nudged him toward in the first place, Dev picked women who shot him. Maes would accuse him of being a meddlesome matchmaker if he caught wind of what Roy had in mind, as if he were any better.

Dev shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re grumpy. This office moved smoother when you were…” How to put this delicately? “Seeing someone.”

“That’s true,” Mera said and Dev glared at her.

“It also went smoothly when General Jackass was in a coma,” Dev replied, stabbing a finger at Roy.

“Nice. Just get to work.” Roy waved him off.

“Isn’t that what we usually say to you?”

“Yes, but I’m taking a half day. I’m still a little wheezy,” Roy replied with a fake cough to reinforce his position. 

“Liar. We all know _why_ you’re taking a day off,” Dev shot back.

“Be nice. This is a military office,” Roy said, but his men were expertly ignoring the conversation and it was possible Havoc had frozen to death on his smoke break since he hadn’t returned. 

“And if I call over to the Fuhrer’s office, Riza will be there?” Dev’s brow arched.

“Would you like to join Edward on sewer exploration? I’m sure I can convince Maes of your interest in joining Investigation,” Roy said, and Dev showed his one of the few things he could do with his automail fingers. Of course, Roy was pretty sure the meaning of the gesture wasn’t physically possible. “Fine, hold down the fort. Falman, keep them in line.”

“Of course, sir.”

Roy headed out into the cold, catching Havoc on the way in. He sent the man after a car. His house was far too far away to walk on even the best of days, and this was definitely not one of them. The leather seats in the car smelled dank as the heater struggled to warm the car. Too many people had been in and out of this military vehicle, tracking in slush and snow. Maybe cloth seats should be suggested to whomever provided the military vehicles. It might not wear as long, but at least ranking military officers wouldn’t gag to death on the stench of wet leather. He listened to Havoc chattering about his upcoming date, not enlightening him on the fact that he was actually in the process of driving his general to go get a little afternoon delight. It was the perfect time for it. Li-Ying and Miao-Yin had left for the day to go attend some seminar on herbal healing, and Riza had managed to finagle a half day off to match his. Roy swore he’d make himself feverish if need be to prove he was ill still.

Havoc dropped him off. Hayate didn’t greet him so Roy assumed he made it back before Riza. A chill clung to the house. He edged up the heater then started a fire in the living room fireplace before going upstairs to do the same in the bedroom. There was something about a clean burning wood fire. It could almost make him enjoy having fire around him again. Sometimes it was hard to watch the flames. It made him remember. Worse, it made Riza remember what she helped turn him into. Still, it felt good on a day like this, and while it might not be that romantic to either of them, it was better than the banging of steam heat. The steam pipes were just distracting, and gave the house a haunted feel in the middle of the night.

Roy shucked out of his uniform and his boots, opting for clothing that was much easier to get out of, and his sturdy-bottomed leather slippers. One of the many downsides to his metal leg was it destroyed shoes and slippers, and going barefoot ruined the hardwood flooring. Also, it got like ice in the bed at night. He trundled downstairs and poured two glasses of wine. Kicking the slippers off, he propped his metal foot up near the fireplace so at least when they got into bed, he wouldn’t be bringing along an unwanted chill. He rubbed the burn-scarred skin above his prosthesis. His ankle ached like mad on days like this, even though he no longer had a real ankle. 

Roy wasn’t sure if the Gate had taken the ankle, or if it had been blown into the hot balloon’s basket when the Gate exploded. Not that it mattered. He had seared the life threatening wound closed and as soon as he was coherent again, he’d contacted Winry. She had been as good as her word about forgiving him for her parents’ deaths. He didn’t really understand why, but he didn’t argue it. She had gotten him back on his feet again and he was grateful.

Roy ran a finger of the Xingese dragon that coursed down his metal leg and over his foot. Winry had had a fit over him transmuting the lucky symbol into his automail. Ed still to this day grouched that he was forbidden to do the same. Testing the metal with his living toes, Roy pulled the foot a little further away from the fire. It also wouldn’t do to give Riza second degree burns. Where was she?

He drank his wine and was on the second glass by the time she made it home. Hayate bounded over to greet him, snow clinging to his winter-thick fur. 

“Sorry, Roy. A meeting ran long.” Riza paused to remove her slushy boots before padding over to give him a kiss.

“I’ve just been reminiscing,” he said and she studied his face. Usually he never did that in a good way. “I’m fine. Just thinking about how jealous Ed is over my leg.”

Riza snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

He got up, handing her the wine glass. He raised his own. “To stolen afternoons.”

She clinked her glass to his. “To more of them in the future.”

“I like how you think.” Roy took a deep swallow of the wine, allowing her to do the same before gathering her in his arms for a deep kiss. “I have a fire started upstairs, too.”

“Mmmm, given how people just let themselves into our home at will, that might be for the best.” Riza set her glass down. “Hayate, you behave. Stay down here.”

There were times Roy really loved that Riza was a disciplinarian. Not having to worry about a dog nosing into their sex life was one of them. He watched her sweep up the stairs just so he could watch her backside. It wasn’t often he got to do that. When Riza was his adjutant, she was always a step behind him, probably watching his ass such as could be seen in that uniform. He missed seeing her at work every day now that she worked for Olivia, but he much rather have her at his side instead of two steps behind.

Riza grabbed him the moment she passed the threshold to their bed room, her lips pressing to his. While she no longer wore a blue uniform, her attire was similar to the military dress she had worn for so many years. Roy didn’t even have to look to skillfully find his way under her shirt to the holster she had tucked around into the small of her back. Once the jacket was off, he’d be able to see her twin shoulder holsters. His brain vacillated between being happy she was so well protected and hating Riza needed any weapons at all.

“You have on too much clothing,” she said, pulling on his shirt.

“You’re reading my mind.” Expert at getting out clothing fast, Roy stripped down and pulled the bedding down while she got out of her holsters. She preferred he didn’t touch them as if she were somehow ashamed of them. 

She was down to her bra and underwear by the time he got the thick winter sheets uncovered from the heap of comforters. Roy caught her in his arms, kissing his way from one scarred shoulder to the other. Riza shuddered under his touch as he freed her bra. Roy didn’t linger over her scars or her tattoo, knowing how sensitive she was about it. Riza backed him up against the bed, her fingers tracing a light pattern over the sensitive skin of his cock. Moaning softly, Roy pulled her down onto the bed, unable to think of a time in his life when he was happier than he was now.

XXX

Dev looked up from his game with Mera, hearing his name being called. He waved to Rotem who was busily stomping snow off his feet.

“Play you next round?” Rotem nodded to the Hahb board.

“Sure. Cold enough?” Dev grinned.

“Don't be a dick.” Rotem huffed. “Speaking of which, I think mine froze off.”

“Just what every woman wants to hear,” Mera said drolly and Rotem snorted at her.

“They have a carafe of coffee over there.” Dev pointed.

Rotem grunted, shuffling after it. “Mustang let you two run free?”

“Eh, early day. I think he wanted sex or something. I try not to think about it.” Dev made a face and Mera kicked his ankle. Dev yelped.

“I'm not sure how you two stand working with him.”

“Honestly? It's not so bad. Surprised the hell out of me. He's fairly laid back unless some contractor pisses him off, and then you do not want to be that contractor.” Dev moved two of his stone ‘seeds.’

“How is all of that going? Do you really think it’s going to work?” Rotem sat down with them, a steaming mug cupped in his hands.

“I do,” Dev replied. “We have plans to rebuild Hadimoy and Jahiosaph first. We have the blueprints for schools and a hospital along with other municipal buildings.”

“And they nearly finished those new apartments in the historic Ishbalan district of Central. That’s pretty exciting,” Mera added. “I’ve seen the layout. They’re really nice. They’re a lot like Dev’s apartment, done in traditional Ishbalan color schemes.”

Rotem’s nose wrinkled. “Not everyone is happy that we have the Amestrians helping us.”

“You can’t please everyone. Someone is always going to bitch loudly.” Dev shrugged. “How do you feel about it?”

“You’ve been changing my mind,” Rotem admitted. “You’ve changed the minds of some important priests like Mera’s father.”

Mera nodded, moving her game piece. “Well, my grandfather had a little to do with that, too, but it’s my grandmother’s influence, really. She’s tired of all the fighting.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m seeing that these particular means to the end aren’t so bad after all,” Rotem said. “I know Vashti is interested in the schooling opportunities you guys lined up.”

“Great. They are tempting,” Dev said.

“You thinking of quitting the priesthood?” Rotem pointed to a cup on the board. “She’s going to beat you if you move that.”

“Shut up, Rotem.” Mera said.

“Thanks and no, not really. I’m not that thrilled with herbs, but I like being a priest.” Dev wrinkled his nose. His damaged body limited him to the branch of the priesthood that practiced herbal healing. “Maybe I’ll take some teaching classes.” 

“Do you have the patience for that?” Mera moved her stones. “And you just lost.”

“Damn it.” Dev slapped the table. “You distracted me, Rotem.”

“No, you just suck.” His friend grinned. “I should play Mera.”

She shook her head. “You two play. Want some coffee, Dev?”

“Sure if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem. I saw your leg playing up again,” she said, heading for the carafe.

“Thanks.” Dev set up the game to the start position. “We still going to the movies with Vashti?”

“Yeah, that’s still on. Prepare to get your head handed to you.” Rotem rubbed his hands.

“Please. You’re not a hot woman. I’m not going to get distracted,” Dev snorted.

“It has to be pretty easy to come in and see her every day.” Rotem twisted to look at Mera, then whispered, “But she does have a reputation. You’re not muscular or mean enough for her.”

“She’s looking for something different.” Dev shrugged. “Never really thought it could be me, no matter what Mustang says. He’s like a meddlesome old woman and that friend of his, Hughes, is no better.”

Rotem twisted back around. “You have no shot. She could have anyone.”

“Never count me out.” Dev grumbled, making a move. He hardly needed to be told he was too ugly and scarred for a beautiful woman. “Shut up and play.” No one ever had faith in him but when he thought about it, Dev had to admit maybe Mustang was onto something after all.

XXX

“Thanks for meeting me, Miao-Yin. I know it’s freezing out there.” Al stretched his legs. The library had miserably uncomfortable seats.

“Not a problem. Let’s go somewhere more comfortable. We’re not too far from my favorite tea shop and they now have some pretty special chocolate pots, too.” The young alchemist smiled. “We could have stayed at your place and gone over the notes, Al.”

“No, we’re going to _your_ uncle’s after this,” Al countered. “And I’ll eventually call my brother and tell him it’s too yucky out to come home and I’ll be spending the night in my guest room at Roy’s.”

“Ah, Winry’s home.” Miao-Yin waved for Al to get up.

He gathered up his books, nodding. “And Ed is the noisiest little thing. We’re on two different floors of the house and I still hear him.”

“And you think my uncle’s home will be any _less_ noisy?” Miao-Yin smirked.

“No, but it’s big. The sound doesn’t carry as much.” Al headed for the door then let Miao Yin take the lead.

She laughed. “Mom’s been saying some mean things about her brother since Aunt Riza still isn’t pregnant.”

“It’s only been a few months.”

“Oh, I know, but you know siblings. Well, you never had a sister. They can be mean.”

“Winry was close enough and yes they can,” Al agreed, his arm twitching in remembrance of times Winry punched him as a kid.

“And women can be fun. Speaking of which, there is a Snow Ball in a few weeks. Would you like to go with me?” Miao-Yin’s smile warmed up the frigid air.

Al blushed, sputtering for a second, not sure what to say. “I thought maybe you’d ask Dev to that.”

“I can’t. Uncle Roy might just kill him and Dev can’t go out with alchemists. Poor thing.” Miao-Yin caught a lamp pole with a gloved hand, swinging around it. “He’d really like to though.”

“No doubt. I…I need to think about it, okay? It’s not that I wouldn’t love to but.” Al glanced away, but she caught his cheek with those rough-knit gloves.

“You still miss her. I understand. Just think about it. I don’t know too many people here and I’d like to go,” she said.

“I’m thinking about it,” Al promised. And he was. It might be nice to go out again, but he still missed his fiancée. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Ziata was dead, in another dimension and that he needed to move on. He just needed to think about it before diving in.

XXX

John knew he couldn't resist much longer. He wished that winter hadn't come. Combat boots and snow boots could send a singular thrill up his spine but they didn't make his heart race like a spiked heel. Those were even more prized than combat boots, taking him to such a special place. Oh, the way they made a woman's leg look so long and elegant. How could he resist at all? He had already selected a few women he wanted to follow, not those at the hospital. No, sensible hospital foot gear did nothing for him. At least a combat boot, while inelegant, spoke of power and he loved that. Hospital shoes whispered of varicose veins and unattractive feet. 

“Medic, we could use some help over here.” John turned, wiping both hands on his uniform top. His automail fingers spasmed a bit. He needed maintenance. Maybe he’d need to do that before he hunted again. He’d want to be in perfect working order, after all. “Coming, doctor.” It was only a matter of time now.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Feeling a tug on his robe, Dev looked down to see Ahaava, Uzziel’s granddaughter. The nine year old smiled up at him. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Is that the actress everyone is talking about?” She pointed to Mustang’s sister who was center stage – or at least in the middle of the room in the Ishbalan center – along with Mera and the jerk. 

For a moment he was surprised the little girl was talking to him. While he’d known Uzziel half his life, the priest’s grandson and great-granddaughter lived in another encampment and he hadn’t seen them often. Children, on the whole, usually avoided him, afraid of the hooks he had before Winry made him a new hand. The automail hadn’t really changed that reaction much, making Ahaava’s question that more unusual. “Yes, that’s Jun.”

“Aunt Mera looks pretty dancing with her,” Ahaava decided. “The guy is very pretty.”

“Uh…” Dev glanced around, trying to see if Mattan or Uzziel was around to hear Ahaava’s proclamation about Mustang. “Is your dad here?”

“Over there with some boring old men.” She pointed to a corner of the center where Mattan stood with his father and grandfather and a trio of hard-core priests, who were vocal opponents of using any help from Amestris to rebuild. They made Dev nervous, as he wasn’t sure they could be trusted no to kill Roy and kick off another civil war. “Can I see your hand? Dad says you have a metal hand.”

Dev snorted before extending it to her. He’d never seen a kid eager to see his hand, especially a girl. “It’s automail,” he said, trying to divert his attention away from where Mera and Jun were dancing. It was hard to pay attention to a kid when beautiful women were gyrating about, Ishbala forgive him his shallowness. He really would rather watch the women than talk to a kid.

“How does it work?” Ahaava asked, pulling his fingers into the open position.

“No clue. You’d have to ask my mechanic.” Too bad she wasn’t out there dancing with Mera. Or Miao-Yin, or, for that matter Riza. Ishbala, Mustang was a lucky man. “I think she’s around,” Dev said, casting about to see if he could spot Winry, Al and Ed. He knew they had come to hear Jun, if for no other reason than Al had a crush on the woman. Dev didn’t blame him. It didn’t matter that Jun was nearly his mom’s age. Too bad Mustang kept dancing into view, ruining the fantasy that it was _Dev_ in between Mera and Jun. Well, he _had_ danced with them both since Li-Ying and Miao-Yin decided that he needed to make dance part of his physical therapy. It was working. He hardly needed his cane any more except on icy or uneven ground. 

“What’s a mechanic? How do you make the fingers move?” Ahaava tried to peer inside his knuckles.

What an odd little girl. “A mechanic makes automail and I think about the movement and the fingers move…sort of. I can’t work it well yet.”

“Ahaava, don’t bother him!”

Dev looked over to see Mattan heading his way, the rest of the priests in tow. “It’s all right. She’s not bothering me. Your daughter is really interested in my automail.”

The priest snorted. “Anything science and she’s interested in it.” 

“I don’t mind. I’m used to people looking at it. At least she wants to know how it works. Too bad I can’t tell her. I was looking for my mechanic. She’s here somewhere and would love to talk to Ahaava about it, if that’s okay,” Dev said quickly knowing many of the priests in Mattan’s order, the warriors, were the most xenophobic of his people, for good reason.

“I don’t. We’re just here listening to the music, letting them get to know the locals.” Mattan nodded to the older priests next to his father and grandfather, while gesturing toward Roy.

Dev nodded. By mutual agreement, they decided to let the visiting priests meet Mustang before telling them who he was. None of them seemed to recognize him, and it had been Aris’s and Dev’s original idea to let them get to know him as he really was. After all, these priests had all voted to put Mustang to death before losing the vote. Of course, Dev hadn’t expected Mustang to join in with his sister and her band of pacifists and make a dancing fool of himself. However, it might be a good thing, letting them get to see a lighter, non-military side of Mustang and, to Dev’s perpetual disappointment in his quest to find something Mustang sucked at, the man did dance well enough to blend into Jun’s troupe. 

“I don’t see where Winry is though,” Dev said, thinking she was probably off in a back room doing unspeakable things to the shrimp. He might like Ed – a lot really. He was an interesting friend – but he didn’t want to think about Winry and Ed. Nothing would change the fact Winry had been Dev’s first love, even if he had messed it up. Dev almost wished that he hadn’t. Getting dumped might be better than knowing he’d been an ass. Of course, the few Ishbalan friends he had would have probably deserted him if he hadn’t left her, leaving him almost pointless in his job as liaison between the younger Ishbalans and the new government.

“Aw, I wanna know how it works.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that. She’d love to tell you all about it until you don’t want to hear any more,” Dev said, ignoring Mattan’s chuckle. “And we’re about to get a visit from a dignitary.” He pointed to Jun, who headed their way with Roy and Mera in tow.

“Ahaava, go find your mother,” Mattan said. She opened her mouth to protest but one look from her father and she scurried off. 

Dev figured he didn’t want her around if something happened between Mustang and the priests. “You guys finally tiring out?” he asked, hoping to head off any tension, not that he had a prayer in hell of doing that.

“Someone has to get to work. He’s been taking too many days off with pneumonia or some nonsense.” Jun slapped Roy’s back and he scowled.

“Have you been enjoying the show?” Mustang directed that to the consul of elder priests. He knew in general who they were, thanks to Aris, but Dev doubted he knew them by name or that they wanted Mustang dead.

“Yes, though I didn’t expect to see so many non-Ishbalans in our center,” Shelar said.

“That’s the purpose of the center,” Jun said. “And of my group, bringing people together. It is harder to hate someone if you understand them better.”

Dev couldn’t tell how the older priest took that bit of wisdom, but the pinching of his face probably didn’t bode well.

“It’s exciting to be a part of it,” Mera said, gesturing around the center. “And it looked like everyone is enjoying it.”

Her father, Kennan, nodded. “I’d say so.”

“Good. I enjoyed talking to you guys earlier,” Mustang said, “but you’ll have to excuse me.”

Dev stared at him. When the hell did Mustang have time to talk to the priests? He’d only turned his back a few minutes to talk to the Elrics and Winry. Mustang went to the dressing screen in the corner that some of the professional singers had been using to do costume changes.

“That man isn’t sane,” Shelar said, and Dev nearly choked. Mustang really had spoken to them if they knew that.

“You can say that again. If there’s anything you need me to do, Uzziel, Kennan, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll pick up another set here in a minute,” Jun said.

“Whatever you’d like to do. We’re really enjoying it,” Uzziel said, beaming like a school boy at her.

“Oh, good. Come on Mera.” She put her arm around the other woman. “She’s going to solo for us,” Jun told Kennan.

“I’ll be looking forward to that,” he replied and Mera beamed.

“Thanks Dad.”

Dev watched the two ladies walk off but Kennan interrupted the view when he said, “Get his attention for me, Dev.” He pointed to Roy.

“Hey, Jackass!” Dev called across and Roy’s head popped up over the dressing screen.

“What?”

“Do you have time to talk to us before you go?” Kennan shot Dev a sour look.

“Sure. Just let me get my shirt on,” Roy said.

“There is something we need to tell you about him,” Uzziel told Shelar and the others.

“Oh?” 

Before Uzziel could explain, an explosion rocked the center. For a moment, Dev thought the building was going to come down, but through the screams, he realized the explosion was from outside. Mustang raced out from behind the screen, pulling his Military jacket on as he went.

Dev ran after him, his bad leg shrieking in protest, but he didn’t slow. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Elrics following them. Kennan and the priests were right behind him. The slummy Ishbalan housing complex down the street was in flames. As Dev watched Roy run inside the building, he heard sirens in the distance.

“Brother, no!” Al grabbed Ed’s arm as the whole front of the apartment complex spewed flames. “We can’t get in there.”

Dev didn’t want in there. He had no idea why he was even standing in front of a burning building. His bladder was only two seconds away for going into business for itself.

“We have to do something!” Ed protested.

“Running into a burning building isn’t going to do it,” Winry said, making Dev wonder when she’d joined them. She pointed to the upper level. “Maybe a slide if anyone is trapped on the second floor.”

“We could do that,” Ed said.

“Something’s happening,” Dev said as the flames died down in front of the building. He heard Kennan or maybe Mattan swearing behind him. Someone was sobbing, several someones. The door slammed open and Mustang carried an old woman outside. She was doing her best to rip him apart. Behind them were several more people, pushing to get through the door. Dev ran forward with his friends, not sure how long Mustang could hold back the flames.

Dev held a hand out to the old woman. “Come on, grandma, he’s got you free of the fire.”

“Do you know who he is?” she coughed as Mustang let her go. “He probably caused it.”

“He didn’t. Come on, help’s coming,” Dev said as Ed tried to push past Roy.

Roy stopped Ed. “No, you don’t. I can’t control the flames as precisely as I once did. I can’t see half of what I need to,” Mustang said, ripping Al’s scarf off from around his neck. He buried it in the snow to wet it down. “You two stay out here, sublimate some snow. Make it rain.”

“There are kids up on the second floor,” one of the rescued Ishbalans said. “Did they get out?”

Dev suddenly realized the screaming wasn’t behind him. It was from inside. Mustang was already going back in. Sweat dripped down his torso seeing the panicked faces pressed to the glass of an upstairs window. Ed clapped his hands, dropping to the ground. A slide ripped upward from the transmuted ground, positioning itself under the window. Hearing people screaming, “Slide!” Dev joined in, in Ishbalan, but the young kids were too terrified or unable to open the window.

Al planted his hands into a snow bank that slowly dwindled, turning to vapor that recondensed over the roof when the heat hit it. An older teen joined the little kids at the window, yanking it open.

"Get out there," Mustang's voice, thick and choked, thundered over the roar of the fire. "Just slide down."

Three of the littlest kids didn't need to be told twice, hitting the slide hard and fast. Dev, Winry and the Elrics helped pick the kids up, getting them swiftly out of the way of others on the way down. 

"I can't do this," the older boy who had opened the window said.

"You have to," Mustang argued. "The floor is giving way!"

"Come on, we'll catch you," Winry called, but the boy shook his head.

Mustang shouted, "Ed, Al, give me a net."

The brothers ripped off their coats and transmuted them into a net tied between the slide and a tree.

“Hurry up,” Dev called up. “Ignore the fact it’s alchemy!”

"I can't jump either!" the boy cried. “It’s too high!”

"Wanna bet." Mustang took two steps back then hit the boy running, knocking him out the window using his shoulder.

That's when Dev realized Mustang had something cradled against his chest. The boy shrieked all the way down, Mustang tucked up as he followed. A loud crack shattered the air as the floor collapsed, sending gouts of flame out the window. Dev missed the flaming tatters floating in the air, settling on his robe between his shoulders, as he moved in to help the terrified young Ishbalan off the makeshift net. Ed tried to help Mustang up. The general freed one hand up from the bundle on his chest, waving that hand oddly at Dev. Figuring Mustang wanted something, Dev moved closer, seeing the bundle was a baby. The infant coughed then wailed. Mustang choked as well, suffering from the smoke. Winry took the baby from him.

“Get everyone back,” Roy rasped. “I can’t keep this from burning down, but I can keep it from spreading.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Ed said.

“The fire trucks are here,” Al pointed to the roadway.

“And ambulances. Let’s get you and the baby there.” Winry ignored Mustang’s protests, assuring him he could see and control his fire from the back of an ambulance as well as he could half dead on his feet just a few yards closer to the building.

Dev watched them go, then helped Alphonse, who had started to examine the kids Roy evacuated from the second story to be sure they were all right. Unable to help them, Ed joined in with the firefighters, transmuting snow to vapor, then finally helping with the hoses.

“We should have the medics look at them,” Al said. “I’m still just beginning my training.”

“Right. Follow me,” Dev told the Ishbalan children. A little girl curled her finger around his hand. The boy Mustang had shoved out the window followed on trembling legs.

Dev saw Kennan, Uzziel, and other priests also descending on the waiting ambulances. His mother knelt on the ground, examining the flesh just above a docking port for an automail leg embossed with dragons. Next to her, Winry examined the scorched metal.

“Mom, these are the kids who were in the building. Al and I looked them over, but we think someone else with more experience should too, as soon as you’re done,” he said, watching Mustang holding an oxygen mask over the baby’s face, the infant cradled in one arm. His own mask hung haphazardly over his mouth and nose.

“I’m fine. Go look at the kids,” Mustang said through the mask. “They should take the baby to the hospital now.”

“I can transfer her to another ambulance,” a medic said. “But you should go too, General Mustang.”

“I am fine. Take care of the kids.” Roy pulled the mask off. “They should be able to handle the fire now. I’ve kept it from spreading.”

“You look exhausted,” Uzziel said.

Roy nodded, dragging out the back of the ambulance, brushing past Winry and Hala. “I’ll be in the center. Come get me if the fire gets out of hand.”

“We will,” Dev assured him, watching the alchemist stagger back to the Ishbalan Centre, ignoring his audience. Hearing his mother asking him for help, Dev turned back to the business at hand.

XXX

Maybe he should have gone to the hospital. Riza would kick his ass when she caught up with him. Roy couldn’t quite find a place to get comfortable in, settling for stretching out on a couch in the centre’s reading room while Talya fetched him water and handkerchiefs to cough up soot-stained gunk into. His whole respiratory system felt scorched, and the telltale hint of oil rode his upper lip. People had died in that fire. No, explosion, and he had already put in a cough-ridden call to Armstrong and Hughes to alert them to the possible sedition. 

“Are you sure you won’t go to the hospital, sweetie?” Talya brushed his hands back.

Roy rubbed his eyes. The glass one felt like it had been coated in sand. His socket throbbed. “I just need to rest.”

“Drink all that water. You’re no doubt dehydrated. Your sister is helping everyone outside. I should go get her and make her take you to see a doctor. You’ve always been a stubborn ass.” Talya put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. 

“Love you, too, Tally.” 

“Uh-oh.” Tally nodded toward the door where Uzziel and Kennan stood with the priests Roy didn’t know. He only knew they hated him. Dev and Hala were behind them. “Priests are never fun.”

“You like Dev,” Roy reminded his childhood friend.

“Only because that child is a tall, good-looking, drink of water,” Talya corrected him. “Need me to stay with you?”

“No, I could probably use more water, though.”

Talya didn’t look happy about the dismissal, but she went off to get him another glass. Roy struggled into a sitting position.

“I needed to talk to you, Uzziel, Kennan.” Roy eyed the men with the two older priests, but they offered no introductions. They hadn’t earlier either when he and Jun spoke to them briefly.

“It was a bomb, wasn’t it?” Kennan asked.

Roy nodded wearily. “Definitely.”

“How can you be sure?” one of the unnamed priests asked.

“I’m more than familiar with them,” Roy replied. “I think they made a mistake in making the bomb. They died in the fire.”

“People died in that.” Dev glanced back at the door he had just come through. “You’re sure?”

“That smell, sort of like a roast? Trust me, I know that smell,” Roy said and Dev’s dark skin turned a pasty shade as he gagged. “I had to report it to my superiors.”

“Of course,” Uzziel said then added a few swear words in Ishbalan. “How soon will they be here?”

“Not sure but soon,” Roy said, then broke down into coughing.

“You really should go to the hospital,” Hala said.

“I’m fine. My eye hurts though. I should go home soon and take it out.”

Dev walked through the door and into the area that still housed their makeshift offices awaiting the completion of their new on-base office. He came back out with a specimen jar from his and Aris’s supply chest. He had one of Roy’s eye patches dangling from his automail hand. “Here, go put it in here.”

“Thanks. If you’ll excuse me.” Roy disappeared into the rest room and plucked out the glass eye. He hated staring at his face with the empty socket ‘looking’ back at him but he forced himself to study it. Unsurprisingly, the tissue was beefy red and swollen, and the glass eye turned the water he put in the specimen cup gray from ash. His wish that the strange – and rather obviously hostile – new priests would be gone by the time he got back out to the main room went unfulfilled.

Talya had given Dev Roy’s glass of water, fussing over the young priest. The musician would have been a great mother, though she would have to have been actually female in the first place. Roy went over and clapped a hand on Dev’s shoulder. “Have you calmed down any?”

“I’m better off than you,” Dev replied, giving him a long look. 

“Good. I didn’t want you to get home and have a panic attack when you took off your robe,” Roy said.

“Huh?” Dev’s nose wrinkled and Roy took the glass of water from him.

“Your robe caught fire.”

Dev nearly knocked him over, jumping up. He tore off his robe and saw the hole burnt into it. Dropping the robe, he gagged, then raced for the bathroom, hand over his mouth.

Roy turned to Hala. “Yeah, I didn’t think he was okay.”

“I saw the damage but was waiting until we were alone,” Dev’s mother replied. “But that might not get to happen. I should probably get to the hospital. They might need help with all the smoke inhalation cases coming in from this. _You_ should be one of them.” She nailed him with a perfect mother talking to petulant child look.

“This is not the first time I’ve been exposed to a little smoke. I’ll be just fine,” Roy replied and the newcomer priests mumbled amongst themselves.

“You are even more bullheaded than my son,” Hala huffed.

“I am. I admit it. Speaking of your stubborn son, you might want to check him for burns. You know how his sensations aren’t entirely intact. Did you see that the fire scorched his shirt, too?” he asked as Dev made a reappearance, still pale.

Hala shook her head. “Son, take your shirt off. I want to check out your back.”

“What the hell?” Dev yanked the shirt off, examining the hole burnt into it. For a moment Roy thought he was going to turn and run back to the bathroom. “How the hell didn’t I notice I was _on fucking fire_!”

“I put it out,” Roy replied.

Dev looked at him as his mother ran her hands over his scarred back. “Was that what you were doing after you jumped? I thought you were just being commanding.”

“I figured you’ve had enough of fire for one life time,” Roy said.

“I’d say he has,” Kennan growled, staring at Dev, then seemed to realize what he was doing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…I knew you’d been burned. I just didn’t know how extensive it was.”

“It doesn’t get any prettier the rest of the way down,” Dev grumbled.

“You’re pretty enough,” Talya said coming over with a glass and Dev rolled his eyes. “Here, ginger beer. Jun keeps it around. It’ll settle that stomach for you. I fixed it up a bit.”

Dev took a drink and coughed. “A bit? I think there’s a half a glass of desert rose whiskey in here.”

Talya waved him off. “It’ll relax you.”

“Or knock me out.” Dev looked over his shoulder. “Am I okay, Mom? It doesn’t hurt.”

“You have a little redness between your shoulders. Sit tight and I’ll get some aloe. You’ll be fine, better than Mustang is,” Hala said, patting her son’s shoulder before heading into the back where the supply chest was.

“Dev, go on home,” Uzziel said. “There is no need for you to sit through a military interrogation. If Mustang’s men need to talk to you, they can do it tomorrow. Kennan, Aris and I can handle this.”

“Technically they’re Hughes’s men, and if they need Dev today they know where to find him,” Roy said. “I better call Havoc to give me a ride home.”

“Please, I called Riza ages ago,” Talya said. “She’s probably outside trying to weave her way through the madness.”

“Oh. I should go look for her.” Roy sighed. “It is really hard dealing with fire when you can’t see half of it.”

“You managed,” Kennan said. “You also managed to save several lives so thank you for that.”

The other priests looked almost confused as to how to react to that. It fell too far outside of their expectations for him, Roy realized.

“This is one of the reasons I learned this alchemy,” Roy reminded them.

“Could you take Dev back to his place?” Hala asked. 

“No, we lost power. They said it wouldn’t be on until tomorrow,” Dev said. “I was going to ask you if I could stay on the couch, Mom.”

She nodded. “Of course, but I’d rather not have you sitting around by yourself after being on fire again. I have to go to the hospital.”

Roy reached over and clamped a hand on Dev’s arm. “Put on a jacket. I’ll take him home with me.”

“Good. Your niece is there, right? With those acupuncture needles? He’ll probably be stiff after running around out there.”

Dev sighed. “Don’t fuss, Mom. Come on, Mustang. Let’s go find your wife.”

“If you need me, call,” Roy said to Uzziel and Kennan. He hoped they wouldn’t. What he didn’t want to say was he didn’t want to be alone any more than Dev did. Ishbalans dying in flames stirred up things Roy didn’t want to face. He headed out into the smoke-filled cold, hoping Riza was, in fact, out there and would take him out of this place.

XXX

The one type of woman he’d look at while at work was the secretaries. They wore such wonderful pumps, making their breasts and buttocks more prominent. He didn’t often get to see them. They didn’t come to the patient rooms where he worked, but occasionally he’d catch sight of them in the cafeteria or in the parking lot.

Miss Phillipa Penny wore her heels higher than most, even in weather like this. She had legs he wanted to lick his way down, not that she would ever look at a medic like him. She had her eyes on the big money, the hospital president she worked for. He was surprised she even bothered to come down to the cafeteria at all.

She was on her way home so he started to follow her out.

“Medic Pandur, where are you going?”

He turned to face Dr. Yates. “On break.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to take it later. There was an apartment fire. We’re going to get a little busy,” Yates said. “I need you to get down to the ER.”

He sighed, watching Miss Penny go out the door. “Yes, sir.” Oh well, there would be other days to make her his. Days when the town wasn’t already jumpy. Yes, a quiet winter night was better suited to his plans anyhow.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

“You are such a brat!” Sinking to his knees, Roy gave a good tug on the sash he had wrapped around Dev’s neck. The young priest flailed on his desk, howling obscenities at him. 

Roy didn’t realize anyone had come in until he heard Kennan say, “I’m sure, if he’s here the general will make time to see you…as soon as he’s done killing one of our priests.” Glancing at the doorway, Roy saw Kennan and Uzziel and a few stone-faced priests behind them. Their faces quickly darkened.

Hala pushed into the room, pausing to raise her eyes and shake her head. “You paying for the funeral?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed affably, tugging on the sash.

“I want a full Ishbalan one, could be expensive.” Hala wagged her finger.

“Worth it!” Roy let go and Dev nearly fell off the desk. 

“Asshole!” He pulled his sash back into position. “And Mom, what the hell was that?”

She pointed to the crumpled paper surrounding the desk Mustang had been using. “You were hitting him on his blind side again, weren’t you? I am not protecting you when you do dumb stuff.”

Dev huffed at her.

“Uzziel, Kennan, you wanted me to meet with someone?” Roy stood up, trying to make himself look presentable even though he knew it was a lost cause.

“You look like hell,” Kennan replied.

“Didn’t sleep.” Roy waved a hand at Dev. “Either of us.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Kennan shook his head.

“It doesn’t? It surprises me,” one of the priests said.

“I’ve gotten to know him a little, Peleg,” Kennan replied, turning to the thin man. “I’ve learned he was not one of the alchemists who enjoyed their role in the war, and I’m not shocked that he wouldn’t sleep.”

“We stayed up talking,” Dev said. “You know he had to be rattled if he passed up going to bed with Riza just to get bleary-eyed talking to me.”

“Exactly. So, I’m guessing this is more than just about the interview yesterday about the bombing,” Roy said.

“It’s about the bombing.” Uzziel beckoned someone in. Several kids, one old lady, and a young mother cradling a baby walked into the offices. “They’re staying here at the centre since the apartment was a loss. They had something they wanted to say to you.”

Roy blinked a couple of times, trying to dredge up a professional smile. He had the feeling it failed. “Oh. I’m just glad everyone seems to be all right.”

The old woman stepped forward. Roy recognized her as the woman he’d carried kicking and screaming out of the fire. Wrinkles – heavy and deep from a lifetime in unforgiving sunlight – framed her still-sharp red eyes. “I’m Basya. Yesterday, I thought you were responsible for the fire.”

“I do understand why,” Roy replied softly. “You don’t owe me.”

Her eyes remained hard. “You saved my life and I’m not sure how I feel about owing you anything.”

“I understand that, too.” He averted his eye from her as she stepped backward, his gaze landing on the young woman. 

“I’m Elah and my baby is Zosa,” the young woman said, stepping forward. “You jumped out a window with her and I can’t imagine how terrifying…” She broke off, her red eyes gleaming. “You saved my baby and I know you don’t remember me. I was just a kid when I saw you last. You let me and my mother go. You and that big, bald alchemist. You saved my life twice, then and now, because I don’t know how I would have lived if Zosa had died.” Elah brought the baby closer and put her in Roy’s hands. “I know exactly how I feel. Grateful.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Roy turned his gaze to the baby, unable to meet the mother’s eyes. His throat felt thick, constricted, as he tried to thank her. He took a deep breath and said, “You might want to keep the part about meeting me as a child to yourself.”

“I don’t understand,” Elah said, a blank look passing over her face.

“He means that it was treasonous, at least as far as the military is concerned,” Uzziel explained, laying a hand on Elah’s shoulder.

“Are you still on that?”

Olivia’s voice startled Roy, jerking his attention away from the baby. The Fuhrer stood in the doorway, with Miles and Riza right behind her. “Would it help if I just wrote a pardon?”

“Are you serious?” Roy stared at her.

“Talk to me later.” Olivia waved a hand at him and turned to Uzziel and Kennan. “I hope my coming unannounced isn’t a problem.”

Roy didn’t think her tone suggested she cared one way or the other, but the priests assured her it was fine. Roy noticed Olivia staring at the newcomer priests then asked what he had been wondering: their names.

“They are all high priests from various factions,” Uzziel said. “Peleg, Baruk and Shelar.”

She glanced over at Roy, an eyebrow rising smoothly in silent question.

“They’re not here for me. I think,” he muttered, then gestured to the Ishbalans he had rescued. “These are the ones who made it out of the fire yesterday.”

“Everyone looks unharmed. Good,” Olivia said, after giving them a perfunctory look. “Though that doesn’t replace what you’ve lost.”

“We didn’t have much to lose in the first place,” Basya replied.

Olivia ignored the old woman’s less than subtle taunt. “Mustang, you look beat. You’re no good to anyone like this. Go the hell home.”

He nodded, rubbing under his eye patch. “I will, gladly. Uzziel, what about Dev? I’m used to staying up all night.”

“Because you’re a crazed alchemist, locked up in your lab doing something wrong,” Dev interrupted.

Roy didn’t bat an eye. “Never mind, let him stay here and suffer. I’m waiting on a call. When it comes in, I’ll go.”

Uzziel snorted. “Go home, Dev.”

“Still no heat,” Dev said, shrugging. “It’s warmer here.”

“I’m technically off,” his mother replied. “You can come home with me, though I do have to go in for my shift at the hospital in the afternoon.”

“We were having a dinner for Winry tonight. You can come, Dev, join Ed in taking pot shots at a weary alchemist,” Roy said. “I’m jealous, though. You get to go home for some mothering. I get to go home to an empty house. Trade?”

“My mother would not pamper you and your house is never empty,” Dev snapped, flipping a hand at him. “So no.”

Roy snorted. “Uzziel, was I wrong about you and your fellow priests being here for me? I assumed you just brought the survivors to see me.”

“We don’t want anything to do with you,” Peleg assured him.

“I’m not exactly surprised.” Roy turned his gaze back down to the baby he still held. “Wish there was more I could do for you. Well, there might be. I’m still waiting on the call.” The baby reached up and caught him by the eye patch, yanking it and giggling.

“Zosa, no!” Elah tried to free her baby’s death grip.

Laughing, Roy undid the patch and let the baby have it. “It’s all right. That’s one heck of a grip she has.”

“Babies usually do,” Basya said grudgingly.

“I’m surprised you even know how to hold one, Mustang,” Olivia said, eyeing him critically.

“I have four sisters. Three of them have kids.” Roy shrugged and let Elah take her child back. She returned the patch.

“Mr. Fermi, if you have some time now, I’d like to talk to you,” Olivia said, ignoring that piece of information.

“Of course. We can go into my office,” Uzziel said.

“Forgive me, Fuhrer. I didn’t know you had any Ishbalan adjutants,” Peleg shot Miles – and his military uniform – a hostile look.

“Only a quarter Ishbalan,” she replied, then gestured to Miles and Riza. “Both of them.”

Peleg’s eyes widened as he stared at Riza.

Roy’s phone rang, breaking into the tension. He answered it. “Great. Really? So how soon could they move in? You can do better than that. Maybe if I came down there….by the end of next week? That’s wonderful. I’ll let them know. Thank you and yes, we’re still considering building another set of apartments. I’ll get back to you on that as soon as I can. This isn’t the weather for breaking ground, but we should be ready to go once spring gets here. Thanks again. Keep me apprised.” 

Olivia barely waited for him to hang up the receiver. “What was that about?” 

“I hope I haven’t overstepped any bounds, but that was Stedman Construction. I knew they had finished most of the new apartments we had designed down the street from this centre. I called Stedman last night to see if we could get the insides finished and ready for move in as soon as possible. They should ready by next week. I know that all of you will need new homes, and I thought this was would be the best way to get that problem solved.”

“Can we afford these places?” Elah asked.

“They are going to be priced low with the idea of providing inexpensive housing so the renters can concentrate on getting back on their feet or going to school. And, given the tragedy you all just went through, the first two months will be free,” Roy said. “Kennan, you and Aris can probably tell that to the kids’ parents.” He nodded to the unaccompanied kids who had been hanging back, overly silent. 

“Yes but free? Really? Or are you paying for it?” Kennan eyed Roy.

“Me or Alex Louis. Trust me, I have plenty and I know no one wants to owe me a damn thing. Consider it piss poor repayment on what I owe you,” Roy said, eyeing Olivia. Her face was a glacial as ever. He wasn’t sure if she felt the same, having been in the war as well, or if she felt him weak for even thinking about it.

“I have no problem taking your money,” Basya said. “I don’t even want to thank you for it, but I will. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know not everyone believes or even cares, but I do want to help. I’m trying,” Roy said. “I don’t expect or want thank yous, but I appreciate that you said it, so you’re welcome.” 

Olivia gestured to Riza, whispering something while the Ishbalans mulled over that statement. Riza came over to Roy and said, “Call Havoc to pick us up. I’ll go with you once I present something to the Fermis.”

“Thanks, Hawkeye,” Roy muttered then went red. “Sorry!”

She huffed at him, shaking her head as she followed Olivia into Uzziel’s office.

“Married recently?” Basya asked.

“Yes, and her new surname is ever so hard for him.” Dev snorted.

“Oh?”

“She’s my wife,” Roy glared at Dev who smirked. “But she’s been Hawkeye to me since I was eight.”

“And sometimes you’re a little slow.” Dev patted Roy’s shoulder. “I think I will trade you places now.”

“Like hell you’ll trade,” Roy replied, shoving him lightly.

“Do I even want to know what you two are starting up about?” Hala asked.

“Remember, I wanted to trade your son going home with you to be mothered,” Roy said and she gave him a look. “But he said no until he realized my wife would be home. Now he wants to trade.”

Hala went over and lightly slapped her son on the back of the head. “Behave. There’s company.”

“Before you go,” the boy in the back of the group of Ishbalans said suddenly. “I have to say something.” 

“I’m listening,” Roy said.

“You pushed me out of a window!” the boy said, his face pale.

“You wouldn’t jump.” Roy smirked. “Believe me, that floor was seconds away from collapsing and killing us and the baby.”

“I know. Thanks.” The boy frowned. “Still, you pushed me out a window. I’m scared of heights.”

“Probably aren’t any less scared now,” Roy replied. “But you’re unsinged.”

“I’d rather chance hitting the ground than getting burned,” Dev said.

“It would really hurt,” the boy said.

Dev lifted his shirt and the kid’s eyes went wide. “Probably not as much as the fire.”

“Point taken. Anyhow, thanks,” the boy said to Roy.

“Glad I was there to help,” Roy replied, reaching for the phone to make the call to Havoc. A rescue from the tension in the room would be very welcome.

XXX

“I wanted more time alone with you.” Ed sulked, sprawled on Winry’s bed in her guest bedroom in Mustang’s home.

She tapped his nose. “You know they mean well. Besides, it’ll be nice to have dinner with everyone. And we’re not exactly alone in your cottage.”

“Yeah, but Al’s upstairs and my bedroom’s down,” Ed protested.

Winry rolled her eyes. “And you’re a noisy little guy in bed.” He raised an eyebrow at the adjective but didn’t fuss. “Trust me, while you were busy sleeping in this morning, poor Al was trying to make me breakfast without actually looking at me because he kept grinning like an idiot. I might just take Roy up on his offer of a gag for you.” 

Ed snorted. “The bastard probably has a ton of them. He’s a pervert.”

“I didn’t hear a no on the gag.” Winry grinned and Ed curled his lip at her.

“Maybe we can leave Alphonse here, then we wouldn’t have to worry about being quiet.” Ed ran a hand up her arm.

“You’re bad.”

“Mmmm, how much time do we have before dinner?”

“Not enough for what you’re planning.” Winry leaned over, kissing him. “Why don’t we go quiz Al on anatomy until dinner.”

“It’s your anatomy I’m interested in,” Ed protested.

“Hold that thought. There are plenty of hours in the night.” Winry slapped his thigh.

Ed sighed and followed her downstairs to where Al was studying. His brother wasn’t readily apparent, but Dev sat on the couch talking to Miao-Yin. That surprised Winry. She had expected Roy’s niece to be helping Alphonse. The red of Dev’s eyes bled into the whites. She wondered if he had slept at all since the fire.

“Where’s Al?” Ed asked.

“Talking to Aunt Li-Ying.” Miao-Yin jerked a hand toward the study. “She knows more about the cardiovascular system than I do.”

Winry wasn’t sure Al or Dev would agree about her and the cardio system. His red face suggested Dev’s was revving. “We were going to quiz him.”

“He was getting surly earlier, something about not sleeping well,” Dev said, rubbing his eyes. “I know what he means.”

Ed grunted, and Winry could see a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Where’s the bastard?”

“On the phone to Hughes. I think he talks to that man more than he does his wife,” Dev replied.

“You have no idea.” Ed shuddered, and Winry sighed, knowing there was likely a torment-Roy session brewing. 

“I think he called about the case you were investigating,” Miao-Yin said. “The dead woman.”

“Hmm, wonder if there is anything I need to know. I’m supposed to be helping Hughes with that,” Ed said. 

“He’s probably just chatting with Roy,” Winry said. “You’d know if something had happened, right?”

“Unless I was busy doing something else. I’m not sure Hughes likes me working the case,” Ed mused. “I think he thinks I’m too young or soft or something.”

“He does,” Roy said, coming into the room. “I had to encourage him to have you help with this. By the way, you were right. The lab called. That was automail oil on the woman’s clothing. Good catch.”

“Thanks.”

“Dinner is about ready. I’m going to help Riza put it on the table,” Roy said.

“We’ll help,” Winry replied.

Dev got up to help then paused, looking out the window. “It’s snowing.”

“The radio said it wasn’t supposed to,” Roy frowned.

“Is that ever right?” Ed asked, following Winry into the kitchen.

“Not really.”

To Winry’s relief, dinner was less like a debriefing than she feared. Roy had, by necessity, asked about her trip east to help round up mechanics willing to go into the desert with the Ishbalans, but most of the conversation was more personal, spanning everything from the crappy electricity in Dev’s apartment, Al’s excitement over his last test scores to the revelation that Roy’s sister Jun would be staying in Central for several more months shooting a movie that would need Ishbalan actors. Roy wanted Mera to try out. Dessert was taken in the living room and met with the fact that it wasn’t just snowing, it was a full on white-out raged beyond the walls of Roy’s large home.

“We’re not going to find a cab in that.” Ed pouted.

“Hell, I’m not even sure we have power yet. I’ll be freezing if I have to go home in this,” Dev said.

“Roy, turn up the radio,” Riza said and he went over to the radio cabinet, increasing the volume.  
“I repeat, all roads are now closed. Emergency and military personnel only are allowed out,” the announcer said.

“Oh hell, now we’re stuck here,” Ed groaned and Winry nudged him with an elbow.

“Ed, it’s fine. It’s not like we don’t have rooms here,” she said.

“Yeah but…” Ed reddened, glancing sideways at Roy.

“Edward, just sleep in her room. It’s not like there’s anyone here who doesn’t know or cares,” Roy said and Ed’s cheeks darkened further. “I’ll go get Winry a gag for you.”

“Bastard!”

“Roy!” Riza shot him a look, but he refused to look repentant.

“Can I make a call?” Dev seemed oddly sad. Winry didn’t want to think about his sudden change in demeanor. “I want to see if Mom made it home okay. She had to work.”

“Go call. Tell Aris you’re staying over, too.”

“I want to call and let Mrs. Hamilton know I’m stuck here. She has the spare key. She can go feed Ragazza,” Al said, and Winry smiled at his worry about his cat. 

“You don’t have to ask. Go make your calls. I’ll go make sure all the rooms have wood in the fireplaces, just in case,” Roy said, heading for the stairs.

Ed shrugged. “Can we help clean up, Riza? Winry and I don’t have any calls to make.” 

“Thanks.”

By the time everything was cleaned and dishes done, Al and Dev were sitting in the living room. Roy headed back down the stairs.

“Fireplaces are at the ready if need be and I bumped the radiators up a little,” Roy said.

“Mom’s stuck at the hospital. I guess she’ll be sleeping in an empty room or something.” Dev shrugged. “Aris said our power did come back on at home, so he’ll stay warm at least.”

“Well, that’s something,” Roy said. “Guess we could play a game or something to pass the time.”

“Give us a blindfold and Dev and I can play pin the tail on the jackass,” Ed smirked.

“Ed!” Winry cuffed him on the back of the head. There were moments she wondered why she loved him. “Be nice.”

“I think that is nice for him, Winry.” Roy shrugged. “I’ll get a deck of cards. Miao-Yin, maybe you should call and see if your aunt is at Armstrong’s. I hope she’s not stuck out there somewhere.”

“Already done. She’s fine,” Miao-Yin replied.

“Sounds good. So? Poker?” Roy asked.

“Why not? Any chance to cream you,” Ed replied.

Winry wasn’t entirely surprised to see that neither Ed nor Dev were able to cream anyone. They weren’t as skilled as they thought they were at hiding their emotions. Riza and Al, on the other hand, were inscrutable. Winry felt sure though, that she had Al this hand. That’s when the lights chose to go out.

“Aw, hell,” Ed groaned.

“Do we have candles?” Al asked. “I want to play out this hand.”

“I think you just gave yours away,” Roy said. “Riza, where did we put the candles?”

“I’ll get them,” she said.

While candles were found, the game didn’t go on much longer. Everyone retired en masse upstairs with Roy preceding them, candle in hand, so he could start the firewood he had meticulously laid out in the bedroom fireplaces. With a blush that was dark enough to be noticed, even in the candlelight, Ed followed Winry into her room. 

Winry watched the flames dance as she snuggled down in the bed. Ed grumbled under his breath about something. She rubbed his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“We have the perfect setting,” he replied. “We have a nice bed, a romantic fire, snow falling down outside and I didn’t think to bring a condom.”

She pursed her lips. “That was dumb of us. With this weather, we should have anticipated being stuck.”

“And I’m not going to steal one from the bastard.”

“No.” Winry frowned, remembering the last time she’d been in that situation. Dev’s and her pregnancy scare had been particularly sobering, but it wasn’t something she was going to bring up now. Ed rolled out of bed. “What? Ed, you can’t exactly go steal one. He and Riza are in the master bedroom.”

Ed waved his hand. “No, but he was teasing me about sleeping with you. There’s the off chance he put a tin in my guest room.”

Winry waited for Ed to go sneaking down the hall before she checked the drawers in her room. No such luck. Ed’s scowl when he returned empty-handed almost made her laugh. She flipped the covers back. “We’ll survive.”

“Yeah, but I won’t be happy about it.” 

Winry cuddled against him once he settled back into bed. “Probably just as well. If you kept Roy up, tomorrow would be miserable.”

Ed sighed, kissing her forehead. “True. Still, would have been worth it.”

XXX

Dev tried facing away from the fireplace, but it didn’t help. He could hear the crackle of the wood being consumed. He couldn’t force himself not to look, no matter how much he wanted to. How was he expected to sleep with a fire merrily mocking him? It didn’t help that the temperature in the room had started down the slippery slope into cold. The fireplace was a saving grace and he knew it. It didn’t mean he had to like it. Thinking about the fact that Roy was just down the hall didn’t help, either. The fireplace was technically between him and the door. If something went wrong, how could he get to help?

To his surprise, someone knocked on the door then let themself in. Shocked to see Miao-Yin standing there, Dev started to say something but she held up a finger.

“Shh, I just wanted to be sure you’re all right.” She carried a blanket in her other arm. “I know you’re afraid of fire.”

Dev sucked in a deep breath, somehow slightly embarrassed by this. He nodded. “Yeah but that’s not your problem, Miao-Yin.”

“It’s not about that.” She waved a hand. “Move over. I brought my own blanket in case you’re shy as usual.”

Dev’s mouth flopped open and didn’t move until she started pushing him. “What are you doing?”

“No one should be lying alone filled with fear in a happy household,” Miao-Yin replied, flipping back all the covers but the sheet, leaving it between their bodies. She wrapped the blanket around herself like armor before getting into bed. “I’m staying with you. Winry said you didn’t snore much. It’ll be fine.”

Dev wasn’t entirely sure of that. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Obviously, but I want to unless it makes you very uncomfortable.” Miao-Yin pulled the rest of the covers back up, tucking some between them before burrowing an arm amongst the various blankets and over his waist. “Better?”

“Yes, much. Thank you. You are the sweetest person, Miao-Yin,” Dev whispered through a constricted throat. Why did she have to be so sweet? Not to mention beautiful? 

“You’re kind to say so. Good night, Dev.” She rested her head against his shoulder.

“Good night.”

Having her next to him definitely gave him something else to concentrate on other than the fire. He had dreamed about moments like this with her, and that was the problem. Miao-Yin was forbidden. As if being the bastard’s niece wasn’t bad enough, Miao-Yin was an alchemist. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Fear of fire faded as fear of embarrassing himself grew. It was going to be a long night.

XXX

Riza fumbled her way out of the master bath. Firelight bathed the bedroom. She hoped it wouldn’t keep her up. Roy flipped the covers back for her. Riza shook her head, seeing he was totally naked.

“Just what do you have planned with a house full of guests?”

“They’re all in their rooms, a couple of them probably planning something similar.” Roy slid a hand down his torso.

He knew damn well what that did to her. She tried not to look but failed. “You better be quiet.”

“Me?” Roy licked his lips, his hand drifting lower. “You’re the noisy one.”

“In your lurid imagination.” Riza slid into bed, her hand skimming over his chest.

“That, too.” Roy put his arms around her. “Can you think of a better way to spend a cold wintry night in front of fire?”

Riza kissed him, her hand straying to his awakening erection. “No, I can’t. Guess it’s a good thing I have a very naughty husband.”

Roy rolled her onto the mattress. “Let me show you how good a thing it is.”

XXX

“John, can you give me a hand?”

The former state alchemist glanced back, seeing that new Ishbalan nurse standing in the hall. It wasn’t that long ago he’d have been tasked to kill her, not help her. John had never really had much ill will toward the Ishbalans, but he hadn’t been on the front lines like Flame or Red Lotus. His alchemy should probably have been more in tune with what he was doing now: medicine. His mother had been from Xing – something else he shared with Mustang outside of their mutual interests – and had taught him alkahestry. John had reasoned that if it could make tissues knit, reversing it could tear tissues asunder. Only his ability to use what his mother had shown him had kept him alive when the Ishbalans captured him and cut off one of his hands to keep him from using his alchemy. He’d been rescued before they could torture him further.

Like it or not, the trauma had ended his desire to be a state alchemist, but also had taught him to take whatever he wanted. The powerful were the only ones who got to realize their dreams. “Sure,” he told her. Getting closer, he saw her name was Hala. She led him into a bed room that reeked of melanotic shit. It only took one time smelling stool filled with blood for the nose to remember the rank stench. 

“They took Mr. Currie down to surgery, but not before his bowels let loose all over,” she said.

“That is one powerful smell. I’ll go get a mop and bucket.”

“Thanks.” Hala got out some masks and gloves for them.

John hurried back. He liked his job and didn’t want anyone to think he was lazy. He pulled a glove over his automail hand. It was having enough problems currently. He didn’t want to add ‘clean out stinking shit of the joints’ to the list. He glanced at Hala’s feet. Nurse’s shoes, as predicted. Even they were better than what Ishbalans usually wore. If John held anything against the Ishbalans – besides the whole lopping off his hand with a giant knife thing – it was their crap sandals. Those things barely qualified as shoes. John thought he had heard some of the other medics thought the middle aged woman was pretty. He wondered if her feet would be nice, or calloused from living in sandals over rocky ground. “Guess you got stuck here, too. You look tired,” he said.

“Yes. I’m technically off shift, but it’s too early to just go to bed, so I might as well be useful,” Hala replied, scrubbing the plastic mattress liner. “If you don’t mind me saying, you have very good use of your hand. My son just got his less than a year ago.”

“It takes a while. I’ve had mine since the war,” John replied, then winced. That probably was a dumb thing to bring up in mixed company. Oh well, it wasn’t like he coveted her. They were merely coworkers.

She nodded. “That’s where he lost his hand, too. Senseless, all of it.”

“Can’t argue that.” John put the mop in the bucket, staring out the window. “Look at it snow.”

Hala looked up from her scrubbing. “I’ve never seen anything like it. We could be here for days, from the look of it.”

“And be very busy if anyone risks going out there,” he said, turning to wheel the bucket out.

“Exactly. Thanks for doing the floor, John,” Hala said.

“Not a problem.”

John watched her go back to her scrubbing. Her legs were lean and strong going down to thin ankles. Yucky nursing shoes aside, maybe she did have what it took to interest him. As he wheeled the bucket back to the closet, John wondered what her feet would look like in heels.


	6. Chapter  Six

Chapter Six

“Never thought I’d be happy to be back in the office,” Roy sighed, sitting on the edge of Havoc’s desk, waiting on the coffee pot percolating on the break area’s stove.

“Would have thought you would have enjoyed being snowed into your house with Riza.” Havoc’s eyebrows waggled.

“Havoc!” Fuery said, a blush rising up his face.

“I was stuck in the house with the Elrics and Dev.” Roy sighed heavily. “Thank god they were able to go home before dinner yesterday. A day and a half with them was plenty. At least Riza enjoyed having Winry around.”

Ed looked up from the stack of paperwork on his small work station. “Don’t let him fool you. There were hours and hours where we didn’t see either of them.”

“You could have been having fun of your own,” Roy replied. “But I’m betting someone forgot his best friends at home.”

Ed went red to his ears. “Shut up! Do I really have to finish all of this _now_? Can’t I just go help Hughes now? His work is about a hundred times more interesting than yours.”

“That I don’t doubt.” Hearing the coffee pot finish its bumping around on the stove, Roy slid off Havoc’s desk. “And I’ll gladly kick you out the door once you get that work done. It can’t possibly take you long.”

“Says the man who never signs his own paperwork,” Breda put in sotto voce.

“Or you could give it to Breda to finish,” Roy said, pouring himself the pungent dark brew. The redhead gave him a hairy eye for the suggestion.

“Oh, hey Hughes, we were just talking about you,” Ed said, dragging Roy’s attention back to the door. “Hughes?” the young man added uncertainly.

Seeing the somber look on Hughes’s face, Roy felt a chill run up his spine. This may not have been the Hughes he’d been best friends with, but they were well on the way to establishing a similar relationship. Their mannerisms were closely matched. Something was deadly wrong. “What happened?” Roy asked.

“I need to borrow Edward,” Hughes said.

“Another crime?” Ed blinked. “Someone went out in that weather?”

 

“Late last night, another woman, a military hospital secretary,” Hughes said. “The local police are looking into it as well, at least until I get the Fuhrer to sign off on paperwork saying this is our case. I don’t need the interference, but I do have to have you come with me, Edward, and answer some questions.” Roy wondered if Edward had realized yet that Hughes was using his full name, and what ‘answering some questions’ entailed. 

Ed’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“You were right about the stain being automail oil.”

“I know. Mustang told me. So what? I’m not surprised. I _do_ know what it looks like.” Ed flexed his metal fingers in emphasis.

“There were more stains on this woman’s clothing. And then there was this.” Hughes crossed the room, handing some photos to Roy.

They still had a damp feel to them. Roy figured they were fresh from the dark room. He didn’t pay much mind to the dead woman in the photo. Graffiti on the wall behind her captured his attention. Roy’s mouth went dry, the coffee already in his stomach souring. 

“What the hell is it?” Ed demanded to know.

“Someone scrawled ‘Mustang will understand’ on the wall,” Roy replied. “I’m supposed to understand _this_?” He slapped the photographs with the back of his fingers. 

“And what does this have to do with me?” Ed asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the picture.

“You and Dev,” Hughes said. “I’ve already had him brought down for interrogation. Don’t think for a minute I believe either of them had anything to do with it, but the civilian police saw the message, and you’re not exactly an unknown, Roy. If I did nothing, it would look like favoritism. And the police had a witness saying they thought they saw one of your subordinates in the area. You have two with automail that could have leaked all over the crime scene.”

“Yes, but Dev and Edward are about as different as you can get.” Roy couldn’t help himself, describing someone tall, then someone short with his hand sweep. “Outside of the automail hands and dating Miss Rockbell, they have nothing in common.”

“We both think you’re as annoying as hell,” Ed snarled, pointing at Roy. “And did you have to bring Winry into this?” He turned to Hughes and added, “Do I have to do this?”

“We don’t want any journalist getting wind of it if we don’t talk to you. It’s not as if you have anything to hide, right?” Hughes said.  
“No.” Ed slammed his hand down on the break area’s counter. “I can’t believe I’m wishing I had spent another night at your place, Mustang. At least it would have been an alibi.”

“Al and Winry aren’t?” Roy asked.

Ed shook his head. “Winry got called into the hospital again and Al could be, I guess, but I didn’t see him once we got home. Saw his damn cat, naturally. Guess we should go talk about this, Hughes.”

“Right. And I’ll be back to talk to you, General,” Hughes said. “To discuss what it is you should understand about these pictures.”

“I am not looking forward to that, but I’ll think on it,” Roy said. He took an absentminded sip of coffee, watching Edward follow Hughes out of the room.

“That is some shit,” Havoc said. “How could they think that the Chief has anything to do with this? He’s still just a kid.”

“No, he’s really not,” Falman said. “He has not been a child since he enrolled in the military, not legally. And he does have automail. Not that I’m suggesting any guilt on the major’s part, just that Brigadier General Hughes isn’t out of line.”

“I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Havoc said, digging his cigarettes out of his desk drawer.

“No, we don’t.” Roy coughed a few times to remind Havoc about the pneumonia he’d recently had. His captain went outside to smoke. He was still slower to train than Hayate. Snickering, Roy looked into his coffee mug, but it held no answers. A sixth sense made him look up at the door just as Uzziel and Kennan came through. “Let me guess, you know about Dev.”

“And apparently you do as well,” Uzziel said, his red eyes blazing.

“Just heard.” Roy waved them toward his office. “Let’s talk about it. Fuery, could you make our guests some tea?”

“Of course, sir.”

Roy shut his office door, dreading this conversation almost as much as the others he knew awaited him as the day wore on.

XXX

“I’d avoid him right now,” Al whispered to Winry, knowing it was a moot point. 

“What happened?” Winry peered down the hall toward the den of their cottage. Ed was still busy grumbling to himself and slamming things around.

“There was another murder.”

“I don’t like this,” Winry frowned. “If Ed is going to be this upset by investigating things like that, maybe he should be working more with Roy and the Ishbalans.”

Al’s eyes beetled. His brother working as an ambassador? Winry must have been inhaling some kind of fumes in her workshop. “No, that’s not it. Apparently, the killer has leaking automail, and wrote a note saying ‘Mustang would understand’ or it was ‘for Mustang’, something like that. Ed and Dev both were interrogated all day as suspects.”

“My automail doesn’t leak.” Winry’s scowl deepened. “Though Ed does damage his a lot. Not that I think your brother did anything like that. He was here all night with you, right?”

“I guess. Honestly, I was so involved in reading for class since I didn’t bring the books to Roy’s, that a party could have been going on down here and I wouldn’t have noticed it.”  
He thought it probably would’ve been the perfect time for Winry to be over, but decided not to say that out loud.

“Perfect. Why don’t you tell that to Hughes and Armstrong?” Ed griped, heading their way, his face patchy red with fury. 

“Why don’t you just calm down, brother? What good is beating up the house going to do you?” Al sighed.

“You’re not the one they think killed two women. What if it gets into the paper that I’m being questioned? How humiliating will that be? I can’t even work with Hughes now until he can prove there’s no chance of me being a killer.” Ed stomped into the living room and threw himself on the couch. “That means I’m stuck in the bastard’s office, and I should be lucky to have that. They could suspend me entirely until this is over. Dev’s probably even less well off. It’s not like the Ishbalans are that trusted yet.”

“Do you think that Mr. Hughes would let the papers know you’re being questioned?” Winry asked.

Ed dragged a hand over his eyes. “No, but someone told the local police one of Mustang’s men was in the area.” He peered out from under his hand, the lines around his mouth deepening. “And you know how much Dev and I look alike.”

Al snorted. “Ed, I think you’re reading far too much into this. You said it yourself, the locals know something is up. It would look bad on Hughes if he didn’t at least talk to you and Dev. It’s not like you were arrested. Hell, you weren’t even in the interrogation room for more than an hour. You told me that yourself.”

“I can’t help those ladies, not if I’m not allowed to work the case,” Ed replied in a whisper.

Winry put her arms around his neck. “Once Mr. Hughes clears your name, you’ll be able to help him find whoever did this. Right now, you just need to relax a little. Want to go to the restaurant down the street for dinner and take your mind off of it?”

“No. I don’t want to be out in public tonight.” Ed sighed. “I’ll help get dinner started.”

Winry shot Al a worried look then agreed with Ed, following him into the kitchen. Al felt no less worried as he went after them.

XXX

John sprawled on his bed, his chest heaving. Miss Penny’s shoe had been even more stimulating than he dreamed. The image of her legs as she walked by in her delicious spiked heels had made him hard at the mere thought. Sadly, she had the spikes in her hands when he found her on her way to work in the pale light of dawn. Even she wasn’t so foolish as to have on heels in the mountains of snow that had fallen. A disappointment for sure, but it didn’t stop him.

A few licks of his alchemy against her well-loved face, splitting skin, spilling blood, convinced Penny to pull off the boots and put her heels back on. She imagined he might let her live if she complied. Where would the fun be in that? Her blood made the ground around her look like cherry snow cones. How delicious!

Rolling over onto his side, his headboard rattling off the wall, John ran his living fingers along the hard shiny black leather of the shoe, then breathed in her scent clinging to the inside. He wondered if Flame had gotten his message. Well, how could he miss it unless someone had erased it? There weren’t many with the surname of Mustang surely, and even less who would understand. John missed those nights in Ishbal, talking to Flame about this. Far too many men were all about the breasts. What did he care about some bulbous lumps of fat bobbling around? Legs and feet did hard work and still managed to be so alluring. The feel of someone’s big toe in his mouth could make him insane. Flame knew. He liked a good thigh, to run his tongue along the sole of someone’s foot. He would understand what John was trying to do.

Next time he’d put Flame in the message instead of Mustang, just to be sure. John gazed longingly at the shoe, wondering if there was time before he had to report to work.

XXX

“Riza didn’t look too happy to see me,” Maes said, sitting down in Roy’s study.

“Did you show her another picture of Elicia?” Roy made a lame attempt to lighten the mood, instantly regretting it. He waved his hand. “She’s not thrilled someone is slicing up women and signing notes to me. And before you ask, I have no idea what I’m supposed to understand.”

“Don’t be so sure. You don’t have all the details yet,” Maes replied as Roy went over to the decanter, pouring them both some dark amber whiskey.

“Then fill me in.” Roy handed him a glass. “I saw the picture, but I didn’t study it. You didn’t leave it.”

“I didn’t have copies yet. I do now.” Hughes reached into his jacket pocket, handing an envelope to him. “There are cuts all over the bodies. Knox isn’t sure what made them, but it was probably something very sharp, like a scalpel.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know a lot of killers who use a knife. Most the killers I know learned it in an alchemy book, and had other ideas for the knowledge.” Roy took a drink before opening the envelope. “Except maybe Kimblee. He enjoyed it but he’s definitely dead this time.”

  
Art by 

 

“Knox thinks there is something familiar about it, but he can’t put his finger on it.”

Roy shrugged, then rubbed under his eye patch. His glass eye had been bothering him so he had taken it out. “He and I were in very different parts of the war. I have no idea how I would understand something that he might. If these women had been set on fire, maybe. And I don’t really know that many people with automail, and those I do know aren’t too likely to cut up women.”

“Neither Ed nor Dev were particularly helpful.” Maes whirled the whiskey around his glass. “Ed isn’t sure Al can vouch for him and pretty much the same for Dev and Aris. They weren’t thrilled with the idea of a search of their places to look for blood-stained clothing, and as Ed pointed out, he could have transmuted out those stains.”

Roy wagged his head. “Ed needs to learn to shut up. I wouldn’t have pointed that out.”

“You’re a devious bastard and Ed has miraculously held onto this air of innocence.” Maes shrugged one shoulder. “Dev had no clue about one key detail and Ed had seen it on the first woman but didn’t realize that it had been repeated on the second woman. Granted, he could fake that.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“No, I’m quite sure neither of them have a damn thing to do with this and today was a waste of time and energy, but it’ll make the higher ups happy.” Maes sighed and took a big gulp of his whiskey.

“Time you don’t really have since, you just know this isn’t the end to it. This guy has something to say.”

“Something _you_ understand. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re probably key to figuring this out. The thing we are holding back is that the shoes are missing in both cases. It’s the middle of winter, so you know the women weren’t walking around barefoot.”

“Shoes?” Roy’s brow furrowed. 

“Does that mean anything to you?”

“No.” Roy made a face. “What the hell do I care about shoes?”

Maes cocked up an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“I would know if I had a shoe fetish.”

“I’ve heard rumors.”

“Please, you’ll hear rumors about all kinds of things about me, including all the great sex you and I have.” Roy drained his glass.

“I’ve heard those and wondered about you and my predecessor.” Maes leaned against the table.

Roy waved him off. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Maes smirked. “I wasn’t worried. Sounds like I’m not the woman in this arrangement.”

Roy snorted. “I don’t have a shoe fetish.”

“Why am I not believing you?” 

“Because you and the killer heard the same rumor? How the hell I should I know?” Roy grumbled, studying Maes’s, no Meinhard’s face. He wasn’t confident he could read it as well as he could Maes’s. The man didn’t believe him, unless Roy missed his guess. “Do you really need to hear all about this?”

“It _is_ an investigation,” Maes replied somberly.

Roy’s lips thinned. “I guess Maes really would know these things. Okay, in no particularly order, my fetishes are collars, whips, paddles, strong women, thighs and feet.”

“Ed’s right, you are a little pervert, aren’t you?” Maes grinned.

Pointing at him, Roy said, “Do not tell him any of that, or I’ll never hear the end of it. I think Dev thinks the collars are for Hayate because he couldn’t have missed them. They were in the same drawer as the condoms he stole.”

Maes laughed then polished off his drink. “Shoes and feet are sort of close.”

“I’ll give that some thought. It’s not like I talk to many people about it. Maes knew. Riza and my sisters, but I don’t see them roaming around killing women, either.”

“True.” Maes got up and poured them both more whiskey. “So what is this crap about you running into burning buildings and finding me even more work to do?”

Roy took the whiskey glass. “I’d tell you to take it up with the terrorists, but they blew themselves up. Did anything come out of looking for any co-conspirators?”

“I have barely had time between the storm and the killings. The Fermis have promised to help.”

“Could you put Edward on that?” Roy sipped his whiskey. “I am not looking forward to him stomping around the office. ‘I’m innocent! How the hell can anyone believe I’d kill a woman? Fuck that’!” He stomped his metal foot with every invective.

“Roy!” Riza called down the hall. “What are you doing?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Pretending to be Edward!”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“How can I pretend to be Edward otherwise?” Roy hollered back.

Art by 

“You better behave before she takes a page from Winry’s book,” Hughes said.

“Winry and I share oh so many things,” Riza replied.

“If you’re just going to stand there listening in, why don’t you join us?” Roy asked.

“I’m not listening in. I’m _trying_ to read, but you’re stomping around.”

“I’ll be quiet.” Roy sighed. “See how annoying it is? You have to put Edward to work.”

“I’ll see if I can get it okayed before you manage to get yourself shot.”

“I should put you out in the snow.” Roy’s eyes narrowed. “So, if you’re done interrogating me, how’s Gracia?”

“Good. No morning sickness so far. I was going to invite you and Riza over for dinner, but I’m not sure I want a perv like you around my beautiful wife and child.” Hughes beamed.

“And here I was going to get my sister to teach you how to massage a pregnant woman’s feet to keep you in Gracia’s good graces. The hell with you.” Roy waved him off.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Famous last words.” Roy sobered up. “How are _you_ doing?”

Maes looked away, as if thinking. “Nervous,” he finally admitted.

Roy could hardly blame him. Meinhard’s Gracia and unborn child had died. This second chance had to be very bittersweet sometimes. “You know I’d do anything for Gracia and you.”

“Yes, but you can’t fix this. I’ll be okay but I get jumpy.”

“Well, a good way to combat nerves is some excellent liquor.” And Roy poured him another glass.

XXX

“My leg hurts,” Dev grumbled sitting down in the cafeteria across from his mother. “And I hate coming here.”

“I know. What did the doctor say?” Hala bit into her sandwich with gusto. Dev wondered if she knew she had a strange stain on her uniform. He decided he didn’t even want to know what caused it. 

“The same as always. It’s getting better but therapy and recovery are slow, as if I don’t already know that.” He reached under the table and massaged his thigh. The scars were tingling now, thanks to all the prodding and poking.

“You know that’s true.” His mother’s ruby eyes pinned him. “You also know the options.”

Dev glanced away, nodding. He knew them all too well. He’d lived half his life with this scarred, aching leg, but the fresh gunshot wound had put him in even more pain. He could work through it, heal more just like he had as a child, or he could let them try experimental surgery, which he was considering. The other option was having the leg therapeutically amputated and getting automail. He hated that idea. Ed was very mobile with his, but that didn’t mean the young man liked it. That was a last resort, but it might have to be considered one day when he was older, less able to get around than he was now. Li-Ying and Miao-Yin seemed to be of the mind he wasn’t out of hope yet. With their help, he had gotten away from needing a cane so much. Frowning, Dev thought he wanted to find Anah and shoot her to see how she liked it.

“I know it’s not very fair,” Hala said.

“No. Sorry, I’m out of sorts.” He waved his hands. “I’m sure someone told you what happened.”

“Yes, but I was waiting for you to get to it.” She tapped her plate with a spoon. “How did you manage to get hauled into interrogation again?”

“It’s nothing.” Dev took a sip of the soup and instantly pitied his mother having to eat here daily. “They seem to think that whoever killed those two women has a connection to General Jackass, and that this is sort of a homage to him. Also, whoever it is has automail.” He flexed his fingers, three of them obeyed. He scowled at them. “I know they don’t really think I have anything to do with it. It’s not like I’m a Mustang fan. I think Elric has more to fear than I do, not that he’d present the jerk with a gift, either. Figures, it stops snowing just enough that I could go home that night. Aris couldn’t swear that I didn’t leave in the pre-dawn hours. The day before that, I would have been snug in bed with Miao-Yin as an alibi but no, I just had to be home.”

At his mother’s raised eyebrow, Dev went red to his hairline. “You were where?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Mom!” He developed a sudden interesting his soup.

“What am I thinking?”

Dev wrinkled his nose. “You know what. The power went out and the heat with it, so Mustang built fires. She knew I’d be afraid to go to sleep by myself with an open fire in the room so she slept in my room. You know Miao-Yin is an alchemist.”

“And I know that I’m very likely to have grandkids with some very exotic looks the way you’re going.” Hala gave him a lingering look before biting into her sandwich with more vehemence than Dev liked. 

Dev sighed. “I can’t even imagine what Xingese-Ishbalan would look like. And it’s not like that. Miao-Yin and I are just friends.” Who he’d sleep with if it weren’t for all the damn obstacles in his way. No, friends was the best option here. Besides, he thought Al might like Miao-Yin and he was a better match for her. “Anyhow, they had to ask me where I was and could I prove it because someone said they saw one of Mustang’s men in that area. I told them…” he trailed off, realizing someone was staring at them.

“What is it?”

“Some guy is looking at us.”

Hala turned in her seat. “Oh, that’s John. Something I can do for you, John?”

“No, sorry, didn’t mean to intrude. I was going to see if you wanted company for lunch but I see you have it,” the man replied.

“This is my son, Dev,” Hala replied. “Dev, this is one of my coworkers, John.”

“Nice to meet you. Have a seat,” Dev said. “I’m almost done talking about this anyhow.”

“This is about those women? I read about it in the papers.” John set his tray down and held out an automail hand to Dev. “It must have been hell to be accused about any of it.”

Dev shook it, metal scraping on metal. “Yeah.”

“That had to be a frightening experience,” John said.

“Not as much as the last time I had to go talk to the military police. The investigators know me, pretty much know I couldn’t have done it, but I have automail and I work with Mustang, so they wanted to be sure that no one could accuse them of favoritism.” Dev shrugged. He looked at his soup bowl and ate a few listless bites.

“So you’re not afraid they think you did it?” John took a bite of his sandwich.

“Not really. I’m missing more than an arm. My leg is messed up. Hughes knows I couldn’t physically chase these women down. I suppose I could have charmed them into following me,” Dev said and his mother choked on her soup. He glared at her. “One of them was in the military. She probably could have kicked my ass for me. I’m not too steady on my feet.” He shook his head. “I’m not a good candidate for an up-close killing. Last time, it was planting bombs. I was much more worried about what they thought then. And I didn’t do _that_ either.”

“You haven’t had much luck,” John shot him a sympathetic look.

“I’m the most luckless man you’re ever going to meet,” Dev laughed self-deprecatingly. 

“Maybe but it looks like you have a good mechanic,” John replied, peering at Dev’s hand.

“Winry? She’s the best. Everyone says so. I can give her your name if you want,” Dev said.

“Winry?”

“Winry Rockbell, she consults here,” Dev said.

John smiled. “I’ll look her up.”

Dev nodded. “Okay, Mom, I need to get going. I have to meet Uzziel shortly.”

“All right. My break’s over shortly, too,” she replied. “Thanks for staying for lunch.”

“No problem. Nice meeting you, John.” Dev waved and headed out. He hoped his mother believed him that he wasn’t overly rattled by the interrogation. He hadn’t been, but still it was frustrating having to go through something like that again. Dev hoped that this was the last time he ever would. 

XXX

John laid out the tools in trays to be sent to a sterilizer. It was easy, mindless work which is what he needed at the moment. What if it had been a mistake to write the note to Mustang? He wanted the man to know, to get that feedback from a fellow fan, but he didn’t want to get caught.

While he wasn’t thrilled someone else might get credit for his art, John saw the practical advantage in it. Hala’s son might make a poor choice. No one would take him seriously based on his own admissions. What was that name he had overheard before he joined them? Elric? That sounded vaguely familiar. He’d have to do some research, but it would be very nice to have someone take the fall, at least especially since his collection wasn’t complete yet. He would stop them. John smiled, his mind floating to the next shoe he wanted to add to the collection. He’d have to go out dancing. The thought of those trim calves dressed with silk stockings, and those lovely shoes! It would be such fun.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Winry yawned before going into her clinic’s patient room. Ed had kept her up all night and not in a good way. He was still fussing and grumbling about the interrogation. She was just about ready to throttle him, but didn’t think he’d take it well if she went back to her own place – her guest room in Roy’s house – just so she could get some rest. She looked at the chart. This would be a new patient, referred by the military hospital. The one thing about that hospital, it was always a good source of new work.

A man in his forties smiled at her before his gaze dropped to her work boots. Smiling, Winry figured he had to be shy. He was dressed in a hospital uniform, and, to her surprise, he already had an automail hand. From the looks of it, it was an old construct. She could definitely improve on that. “Hello, I’m Winry Rockbell.”

“John Pandur.” He held out that old hand for her to shake.

Winry did so, sitting down so she could examine it. “Are you having troubles with your hand?”

“Yes. I’m having issues with the fingers moving correctly. I’ve had this since the war. I guess you know hands are expensive. I never had it updated because it was working fine.” John shrugged. “Now, it’s having problems and Hala Jasso suggested I contact you since I wouldn’t even begin to know where my mechanic is,” he said, still looking at her feet, his brow pinched as if he was concerned or perhaps disappointed.

“Have you been maintaining it? That’s a very long time to go without maintenance,” she scolded gently. Winry checked over his hand and immediately reevaluated her statement. She wouldn’t have guessed it had been so long except for where it leaked around the thumb and forefinger. “I’m not used to it lasting so long. You must have been taking good care of your automail,” Winry added brightly, wondering if she could have this man talk to Ed, Roy and Dev, all of whom broke theirs with regularity.

  
Art by 

 

He smiled again. “I’m a medic. I’m used to taking care of things. I’m able to do the maintenance and it’s not very extensive.” John gestured with his hand, drawing attention to the fact that his prosthesis ended just a few millimeters above his wrist.

“Let’s have a look.” Winry pulled on her mechanic’s loupe, fixing it over one eye and selected the proper tool to open up the mechanisms. “Hmmm, the pistons are very worn and leaking. Third time I’ve seen this today. The cold isn’t doing anyone any favors especially these older models. I can fix these, or we could do a complete redesign and give you something new.”

“Can we fix the worn out parts now, and let me see how the finances look for a new hand? I’m more or less happy with the hand as it is, but I’ve seen your work,” John said. 

“You have?” Winry’s brow beetled. “Oh, yes, you know Hala, so you’ve probably met Dev.”

“Recently, yes. Dev also said to see you.”

“Dev’s hand is a very new design. And certainly we replace the pistons and talk over designs so you have an idea of how much it’ll cost for a replacement,” Winry said affably.

“Sounds like a plan.” John smiled, but she noticed he couldn’t meet her eyes. The poor guy was probably shy with the way he kept looking at her feet instead of her.

XXX

“You look stressed.” Gracia laced her arms around Maes’s neck.

He put a hand over hers, giving them a squeeze. “I am. Sorry, didn’t mean to bring it home.”

“Have you managed to clear Edward?” Gracia leaned down to kiss his cheek before coming around the arm of the couch to sit with him.

“Not yet. I have him working on other things. We can more or less rule out Dev. He’s not in good enough physical condition.” Maes frowned. “I don’t like talking about this sort of thing here.” He glanced at the ceiling.

“She’s in the kitchen doing her homework,” Gracia replied.

“Good.” He nodded, trying to figure out what it was he wanted to say.

“Something else is bothering you.”

That she could read him so well was one of those things bothering him. Was he really so much like the man’s whose name he now called his own? Or was he that transparent, all on his own? Putting an arm around her waist, Maes said, “I’m worried about you.” 

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she replied airily.

His lips thinned. He knew she was probably right, but he couldn’t dodge the feeling of dread. 

Gracia frowned, taking his hand. “There really isn’t. I know after what happened in your world, that’s hard for you to believe.” She twined her fingers with his. “I’m fine, Maes. I really am, and when I’m not, trust me, you’ll know it. My moods will be swinging and I’ll be screaming or crying or both.”

Maes snorted. “I think I can handle that. I’m _expecting_ that. It’s the normal I’m not so ready for. You’re so happy. _She_ had been that happy and I’m not trying to live in the past and think about her.”

“But you can’t help it. I know.” Gracia turned to look into his eyes. “Those same thoughts go through my mind, too.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m thinking this is a mistake,” he added hurriedly. “It’s odd, no doubt, but I do love you.”

“I know you love me, honey, and I hope you know I love you, too.” She stroked his cheek. “You’re a good man, you’re my good man.”

But he really wasn’t or at least not her original good man. Sometimes he did think this might have been a mistake, but those times were few and far between. This self doubt was born of fear of losing it all again. Meinhard couldn’t imagine not having her and Elicia in his life. It was worth giving up his real name. He was Maes now.

He pulled her close, kissing her as he calculated the time between now and when Elicia would be in bed. Before his hand could reach the first button of her sweater, the phone rang, making them both jump. Mentally cursing enough to make even Ed blush, Maes got up and snatched the phone off the cradle. “Hello? Oh…just perfect. I’ll be right there.”

Worried, she folded her arms around herself. “Another woman didn’t get killed did she?” Gracia asked.

Maes shook his head. “This has to do with the bomb mishap. We seem to have to a lead on a few more of the Ishbalans in the cabal. I’m going to call Ed and have him meet us, then give Roy a call. With my luck, I’ll catch him in the middle of doing something indecent with Riza.”

Gracia glanced back at the kitchen as if to see if her daughter was still there. “And here I was hoping you’d do something indecent with me.”

“I’ll try to save some energy for that when I get back.” He grinned, even though they both knew in all likelihood he’d get back so late at night, sleep would be the only thing he was capable of. At least they had caught a break on one case. It made the interruption sting a little less.

XXX

“I’m surprised I’m allowed to help with this,” Ed grumbled as he met Hughes, Armstrong and Ross outside headquarters. The pained look on the two men’s faces made him regret his hasty words. Maria looked like she wanted to slap him across the face like she had when he was a kid.

“You _are_ cleared for duty, Major,” Hughes replied stiffly, letting Ed know the barb had dug in. “You’re just not cleared to examine the case of the murdered women.”

“Yeah, okay, so what is the plan?” Ed tried to downplay being an ass. He rubbed his shoulder, which screamed from the cold. “And can we discuss it inside?”

“In the car,” Maria replied. “Brosch has brought it around.”

Ed nodded. “Okay.”

He let them chivvy him toward the military transport, thankful it was a van. He hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of squeezing into a back seat next to Armstrong. Memories of his frightening defeat at Scar’s hands bubbled up, along with the feeling of being crushed by the gentle behemoth up against the train window as Armstrong escorted him and Al home.

As Denny navigated the slick roads, Hughes laid out the plan. “Do you know Priests Shelar and Mattan, Edward?”

“Mattan is Uzziel’s grandson, right? I know who he is, but I don’t know him other than he’s not a Mustang fan.” Ed shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘who is?’ “I’ve never heard of the other man.”

“I don’t know much about either man myself. They’re going to meet us at the Thuja housing project. Apparently, one of the group wants to give up. He’s only fifteen and in over his head,” Hughes said.

Ed wrinkled his nose. “Why does a kid want to blow people up?”

“You were younger than he is when you joined the military,” Maria reminded him. “Even if war wasn’t what you had in mind when you signed up.”

“You have to remember, Edward, the boy would have been a mere babe during the war, if he was born at all during the worst of it. He was very likely to have grown up fed on hatred for Amestris, wrapped up in the ideals of righteous vengeance,” Armstrong added.

Ed grimaced. “I heard stuff like that from Scar.” He’d seen it on Earth, too. On one level he understood it, but he didn’t have to like it. 

“Mattan and Shelar will theoretically be there to help keep the kid calm, and I’m sure they think they may need to protect him as well,” Hughes said. “I’m not that interested in punishing a kid, but that might be out of our hands.”

“What if he helps us?” Ed asked.

“I’m hoping that’s enough to get him some consideration. As far as I know, he’s not actually done anything yet, and, hopefully, knows what the cell is planning. It’s what do we do with him afterward that concerns me,” Hughes replied and Ed believed that Hughes was telling the truth judging by the furrow in the man’s brow. “He might not be safe among his own people here, and it’s not likely he’s going to want to help us much or switch sides.”

“That’s probably why those priests want to be there. To protect him from his own people, maybe find some way to rehabilitate him,” Ed tried to be hopeful.

“Probably.”

“We’re there,” Denny called from the driver’s seat.

Ed saw the priests standing outside in colorful, thick wool coats, looking frozen and unhappy. He knew he’d be equally unhappy once this got underway.

XXX

“This is going to become permanent if you keep scowling like that.” Riza tapped the tight knot between Roy’s brow.

His frown deepened. “I should get to the Ishbalan centre, but Uzziel and Kennan want me to stay out of it.”

“Then that’s exactly what you should do.” Riza replied, tapping his brow again.

“Have you forgotten your husband is responsible for everything all the time?” Li-Ying said, barely looking up from her book. She shifted on the living room couch, sinking lower on it. “Even when it has nothing to do with him. He’s always been a control freak.”

“I know.” Riza sighed.

“I’m not!” Roy glared at his sister, but it was lost on her. “Maes called me about having a lead on the bomber. The priests want me out of it because I’m apparently part of the problem. You know damn well there are a lot of hard feelings about me being the ambassador.” He started fidgeting with his glass eye and the scar on his cheek, something to keep his fingers busy. “There are those that would rather live rough in the slums if the alternative is accepting my help.”

“And it’s been like that for the last few years,” Riza reminded him. “Tonight is no different.”

“Maes and Edward are walking into an Ishbalan slum alone. I should have been able to have gone,” Roy grumbled.

“Edward is no longer a child, Roy.” Riza sat next to him taking his hand. “He is nearly your match in a fight. Well, we haven’t even seen him fight since he’s come back. He could be better than you. Hughes can take care of himself.” Roy winced at that and she squeezed his hand. “You know he is. Armstrong is also with them, and Maria Ross and Denny Brosch. They will be fine.”

He pouted. “That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“You’re worried about Edward.” Riza smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“Don’t you even think about suggesting that to him.” Roy wagged a finger at her. “Besides, it’s Hughes I’m worried about.”

“Right,” Li-Ying drawled. 

“It just seems there is never just one problem, one reason for sorrow but many at once. I can’t help but worry when I think about it like that.” Roy sighed.

“Isn’t that an old saying? Brother, if you’re just going to sit around being a grumpus, why don’t you just go upstairs and do it where we don’t have to see you?” Li-Ying asked, turning a page in her book.

“Why are you even still in Central?” Roy snorted. She didn’t deign to give him an answer, so he turned his attention back to Riza. “And it’s not helping that this murderer is running around writing me love notes. I’ve been racking my brain, and I have no idea how I could possibly be connected.”

“Have you tried looking at photos?” Riza yawned. “Those are often good at triggering memories.”

“No, I should, though. It’s a good idea. I’ll dig out some old albums. I get this feeling that if I could possibly know the killer, it’s not recently. Don’t ask me why?”

“You have good intuition for a brat,” Li-Ying replied.

“I’m ignoring you.” Roy did a poor job of it, flashing his sister an obscene gesture. “How are you feeling, Riza? You looked tired at dinner.”

“Exhausted. Don’t know why. I was exhausted yesterday, too,” she admitted.

Li-Ying peered at her with more concern than she would ever show Roy. “Of course you are. Living with my brother is enough to exhaust anyone.”

He sniffed in response. “Let’s go upstairs, Riza. Get into bed early and pretend my sister isn’t here.”

“I’ll go put on some music to drown you out, brother.”

Riza wagged her head. “You two are awful, but turning in early sounds good. Come with me, Roy. You can always come back down here and fret in the middle of the night like normal.”

Roy sighed, knowing he would. He took her hand anyhow, heading for the stairs. He could at least find momentary solace in his wife’s arms.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

“Is the Fuhrer coming here today?” Kennan asked Roy, interrupting the conversation he’d been having with Aris.

Roy nodded. “You said you wanted to talk to her about alchemists, and she wanted to talk to you about the cabal that was just uncovered. It should be fairly informal.” He glanced over Kennan’s shoulder to the visiting priests who had become the man’s shadow. Roy figured they had to be the reason the whole idea of State Alchemists had to be revisited. “At least, I hope so.”

“That is my hope as well. We are not looking for an accounting of the State Alchemists for war trials. In watching the efforts you and the Fuhrer’s brother have put forth, it was proposed there might be a more tangible form of reparations some of the others might be willing to put forth,” Kennan replied.

“I have no idea, but the Fuhrer did ask I not give out that list, or at least as far as I know it, until she arrives.” Roy shrugged. “I’m also not really in the loop about what happened at the Thuja housing project but that was by your request.” A hint of recrimination hung in his words.

“Some of what we heard was the bombs were being built in response to your assistance here at the centre,” Aris said. “Ironic that you were the one to save those people from the bombers.” His dry tone made Roy smile briefly.

“Speaking of which, I need to put a call in to that construction company. Those new apartments should be ready for move-in. I’m sure the people camped out here in the centre will be glad to hear that,” Roy said. It was hard to believe it had been over a week already. At least there had been no more murders with notes to him in the last few days.

“Kennan,” Dev said, coming up behind the priest, leading the Fuhrer, Miles and Riza along with him. “They’re here.”

“Thanks. Where would you like to do this?” Kennan aimed that at Roy.

“These offices are small. No one should be in that conference room on the third floor,” Roy replied, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

“That should do fine,” Olivia said.

“Follow me,” Dev said, heading for the stair case. He limped more heavily than he had in the past few days. Roy would have to tell his niece and sister. The weather had kept the young man from visiting and getting a treatment. It was obviously telling on him. 

The architect hadn’t known that the Ishbalan Centre was going to be doing double duty as a place of business while an embassy was built. He hadn’t designed a room for holding meetings so a supply room had been taken over for that purpose. However, one round table and chairs all but filled the area. Once they were all seated around the table in the cramped conference room – except for Riza and Miles who stood on guard – Olivia nodded to Miles. He handed Roy a folder.

“That is the official list of State Alchemists. Needless to say, if something starts suddenly happening to them, you will be the first place I look,” Olivia told the priests. 

“That isn’t why we want the list,” Kennan assured her. “Mustang and your brother have proven they are worth more alive.” His lips thinned, almost disappearing into his beard. “Though, I suppose the bombing cabal proves not everyone agrees.”

Olivia waved him off. “You’ll never find a place where everyone agrees with their leaders.” 

“That is true and we are appreciative that you were willing to entrust young Isaar to our guardianship in exchange for his help naming others in the cabal,” Kennan said. 

“He’s also your worry if sympathizers come looking for him,” Olivia replied, leaning back in her chair. “So what did you have in mind with this list?”

“Reparations. We are aware of how well paid State Alchemists are. Surely they could set aside a certain monetary amount over the next few years to help fund the rebuilding of Ishbal or donate time and money. We haven’t come to complete agreement about this yet, but we thought we would at least see the sorts of numbers we’d be dealing with and if you are ready to back such an initiative.” Kennan’s eyes swept over Olivia. “Though, I thought you’d just send the list with Mustang as Ambassador.”

“I had considered it, but I also thought it wasn’t a bad idea, to hear this in person and to be as approachable as I can be in the rebuilding process,” Olivia replied and Roy knew that cost her. Olivia was never a very approachable woman and that was probably one of the hardest parts of her being Fuhrer. Both he and Miles had pushed for her coming here.

“We appreciate it,” Aris said.

“May I see the list of names?” Kennan asked Roy.

“Let’s go over them together. If this was the original roll call from the war, there are a lot of names that can probably be stricken from the list,” Roy said. “Got a pen?”

Dev pulled one out of his pocket. “You never have them.”

“That’s what you’re for. Let’s see here, Avalanche is dead, Blade Jewel is in a mental institution, Brimstone committed suicide. Crimson was killed by Scar for that matter so was Electric, Silver and Iron Blood.” Roy crossed off the names.

“Scar?” Peleg asked, finally breaking his silence. Roy had begun wondering if there were vows of silence in the Ishbalan religion and what his chances of Dev taking one.

“The Scarred Ishbalan. Never did know his name but he killed several of us,” Roy replied. “Crystal and Ice are dead. Wind, Knife, and Thunderbolt are all in the asylum. Anvil, Granite, and Copper were suicides.”

“I’m beginning to wonder how you didn’t end up in an asylum, then I remember that you’ve had a few close calls.” Dev said. “Maybe it would be easier to just circle the ones who didn’t kill themselves or go insane.”

Roy grimaced. “Thanks for reminding me, but you might have a point. I know that we’re seen as heartless monsters. Truth is, not many of us wanted to be in that war. We became State Alchemists for the funds to do our research. Only a few like Crimson and Iron Blood were sadistic enough to enjoy it. The war already took its toll from us. Kennan, you’ve remarked before it was probably a crueler thing to let me live with what I’ve done than demand my execution. You didn’t know how right you are. I’ve visited a few of them in Central’s asylum. Death would be a mercy.”

“And how exactly do you think we should feel about that?” Baruk asked, playing with his brown beard that stretched nearly to his chest.

Roy shrugged. “It’s a fact. You can do whatever you’d like with it. I’m just giving perspective. Ah, here you go, Vine. She would be grateful for a chance to help out. I even know where to find her.”

“That’s a start,” Kennan said.

“Yeah, we might want to request some additional refreshments. This might take awhile.” Roy sighed.

XXX

Al frowned at the bathroom door. How long did it take Winry to shower? His hair was a mess and he had to pee. He had the day off from school, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that. He stumbled down the stairs and contemplated, very briefly, going out in the snow to pee against a tree. Mrs. Hamilton would see him with his luck, and while Ed would probably laugh it off, if Winry found out, she might tie his dick in a knot.

The smell of bacon and coffee captured him, drawing him into the kitchen where Ed was being shockingly domestic. The bacon looked edible. The coffee would be chancier. Ed had a tendency to boil it into a thick syrup more usable as paint stripper than a wake-me-up. Al sat down at the table with a thump. “I have to pee. When did Winry get in there?”

  
Art by 

Ed flushed. “You weren’t supposed to be up yet.”

“I know she stayed the night, Ed. Don’t be a prude.” Al waved him off. “We’re going to have to make a schedule if she’s going to be sleeping over more.”

“Sorry. I can go hurry her up if you need me to, or you can just pee down the drain.” Ed shrugged.

“I am _not_ peeing in the sink.” Al considered that for a moment. “And you’d better not be, either. I think we need to reconsider our living arrangements, Brother.”

Ed slapped the wooden spoon down, whirling around. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this cottage is small and I’m distracted and crabby because I have so much make-up work to do for school.” Al sighed, levering himself back up. He needed to chance the coffee. “I’m suggesting Winry and I trade places. She stays with Roy when she’s here. I could stay with him and Miao-Yin is there. That will be convenient since she helps me study. I’ll be out of your way, and you won’t have to worry about what I’ll overhear, and,” he sighed, longingly, “there are at least three bathrooms at Roy’s.”

Ed came over to him. “Al, I don’t want you to move out.”

“You knew I had to some day, Ed.” Al poured the coffee. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Roy has a lot of interesting ideas. You know he’s working with me on the healing alchemy and that house is so big, I won’t be in anyone’s way.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m driving you off, Al.” Ed swallowed, touching Al’s shoulder.

Al couldn’t quite look at his brother. He didn’t know how to process Edward looking so remorseful on account of something Al had done. “You’re not. I almost said ‘no’ to taking this cottage in the first place. I should have been out on my own and married by now.” He grimaced. Why the hell had he brought that up? 

“Al…” Ed reached for him, but Al moved out of range as he went for the sugar.

“It’s about time you and Winry had time for yourselves, Ed.” He spooned some sweetener into the coffee and stirred it. 

“I’m not sure I’m ready to move in with her, Al,” Ed replied quietly.

Al turned back to him, seeing Ed looked almost afraid. “Well, I don’t have to move out right away, but it should be something for you and Winry to think about.”

Ed nodded, sighing, and went back to the stove and his cooking. “You’re right. I know it. I guess I’m not…I don’t even know what.”

“Ready to be an adult? Hell, you and I have been adults since we were ten. Clinging to the last vestiges of childhood is probably understandable.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Ed shrugged. “Maybe. And you’re right. Some days, I wish we could have been kids more, but there’s nothing we can do about that. I’ll talk to Winry. You’re right. If nothing else, we need a schedule for showers so we can all get ready on time.”

“Good.” Al sipped the coffee, then grimaced. “Next we’ll work on getting you lessons on how to make coffee.”

“Bite me.”

Al snorted. That sounded more like his brother. Hearing Winry on the stairs, Al set the death in a cup aside and raced up the steps past her. Even if it was his idea, he’d be rather sad and a little afraid to leave his brother, too. They had been together just a little too long.

XXX

Back during the war, alchemists were given every advantage over their opponents, the Ishbalans. John had taken advantage of that to have his alchemic symbol stamped into a medallion he could wear all the time. Now, with the circle of metal clutched in his hand, he flicked his finger at the whimpering girl. 

The skin of her arm split open and she screamed. No one inside the building would hear her over the pounding beat of the dance hall music. “You have beautiful taste in shoes, my dear,” he said.

“Please, please, mister,” she begged, clutching at her arm. Blood ran between her fingers to splatter on the dirty snow. “Don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”

“That’s too bad.” John flicked his finger again, and the skin of her neck opened. She died, gurgling her own blood. He hated that part but it was necessary. John squatted down and took her beautiful bejeweled heels, tucking them into his jacket pockets. He grinned, seeing the crystal anklet around her slender ankle. John pocketed that before he dipped his automail finger into her blood.

He started scrawling his note to Mustang on the wall, thinking once he got home, he’d have to give his hand a thorough cleaning. He was going to meet with Miss Rockbell tomorrow for his new hand. What a pity she wore ugly work boots. He wouldn’t mind having something her feet had been in. _Mustang, is there anything better than a delicate foot dressed in glittering crystals?_. 

John scowled. That had taken longer to write than he anticipated, and it was messy, but it got the message across. He stomped his feet. Damn, it was cold. It was time to get going before some drunk came out of the dance hall to piss in the alley or something. He couldn’t wait to get home and spend time with his newest conquest.

XXX

“Mmmm,” Roy moaned as Riza shifted her weight off of him. “Too soon.”

“You’ll lose feeling in your arms.” She reached over and undid one of the silk scarves pinning his arms to the headboard.

He wiggled. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

“So am I. It’s no fun being tired for no reason.” As she reached over to undo his other arm, Roy nuzzled her breast. “And I see someone is not tired.”

“Not at all.” He grinned broadly.

Riza trailed her hand, still holding the swatch of silk, down his body to tease his sensitive flesh. He was just beginning to respond to her wonderful touch when the bedroom phone rang.

“Dammit!” Roy rolled out from under his wife. “At this hour, you know it can’t be good.”

“You have to answer it.”

Roy snatched the phone out of the cradle, almost clipping himself in the chin with the mouthpiece as he jammed it to his head. “What?”

“There’s been another one,” Hughes answered tersely.

“Fuck it. Where?”

“Know where the Henshaw Dance Hall is?”

Roy swore again. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He dropped the receiver back into its cradle with a crash.

“Another girl?”

“Yeah.” Roy got out of bed and Riza followed.

At his look, Riza said, “I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I rarely get to look out for you any more, love.” Riza embraced him. “The least I can do is not leave you out in the cold with this horror by yourself.”

Roy kissed her. “That’s one of the reasons I love you.” He went to the bureau. “Need to find my heavy socks. It’s going to be frigid, and we’ll probably be there all night.”

“Middle drawer, left side,” Riza replied. “I’ll go make a quick pot of coffee and put it in a thermos.”

“Another reason to love you forever.”


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

 

Hala wheeled Mr. Challis to X-ray, trying to ignore the old veteran’s lewd suggestions. He pinched her butt when she turned him over the technicians. Dirty old fool. When she got back to the nurses’s station, she spotted John, setting up the pill cart.

“Need some help?” she offered. “Didn’t you have a big day yesterday?”

“I’ve got it. And yes,” John wiggled shining new metal fingers at her. “It’s fine. The pain fades. Your son’s mechanic is quite amazing.”

“Yes, he’s very fond of her.” Hala blushed a bit, remembering her own uncharitable reaction to the girl and the role she played in her son’s ruined happiness.

“I can see why. She’s quite talented.” John brushed his wheat-gold hair back, looking at Hala. “You seem upset.”

She couldn’t tell him about her worries over helping to destroy Dev’s first real relationship, so Hala lied. Well, it wasn’t quite a lie. “I’m worried about these killings.”

John nodded, his lips thinning. “As a woman, I can certainly see why you would be.”

“It’s very disturbing.”

“Yes. Well, I do have to get these pills ready.”

“And I better go check on Miss Harding before I have to go back and get Mr. Challis.” Hala left him sorting the pills, unable to get her grim assessment of Dev’s former girlfriend out of her mind.

XXX

“Al wants to move out,” Ed said, kicking off his boots. He flexed his toes.

Winry was so tickled to see him wiggling the automail toes in time with his flesh ones that it took a second for that news to sink in. She frowned. “What did you do to poor Al?”

“Me?” Ed cocked up his eyebrows. “ _You_ were the one in the bathroom all morning. And too loud last night.”

“It was _you_ who was making the racket.” Winry poked as finger against one of his uniform buttons. “I told you he’d hear that.”

Ed sighed, slipping his blue jacket off. He put it on the coat rack in the foyer then moved into the living room. “That wasn’t his problem. Apparently, he has a bladder smaller than his cat’s. Hmm, I should have told him to go pee in Rag’s box if he had to go so bad.”

Winry sputtered then put a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Do you think he’s uncomfortable with us?”

“No, he thinks you should move in here while he stays with the bastard.”

Her hand fell away. “Really? Is that what you want, Ed?”

He took a few steps back, his gaze skittering away. “I don’t know. Yes and no.” Ed looked past her shoulder, his own slumping. “I mean, I do want to be with you, but we’ve only been back a few months. It feels too fast.”

Winry nodded. It felt unreal that they had been back such a short time. “I know.”

“And you’re not here all the time. You have those other clinics. And…I just don’t think it looks proper. You’re trying to build a business. Some of the clients are military, right? They’re pretty conservative. I’m not sure what they’d think of you if we weren’t married. You remember how some people talked about Mom.”

She drew near to embrace him. “I do and you’re right. We aren’t going to lose anything by going slowly. We haven’t seen each other in years. I know I still love you, but we need time to get to know each other again. Maybe Al can go to Roy’s on the days I know I’ll be staying here.”

Ed’s face brightened. “I think that’ll work. Can I talk to you about something else?”

“Is it more awkward than this conversation?” Winry gave him a little grin as she tilted her head. 

Ed shrugged. “Probably. I’m just worried.”

“About the killings,” she guessed. 

“I’m still not allowed to investigate that case.” Ed grumbled, “Have to go deal with the bastard tomorrow as a result. The point is, I really wish you wouldn’t go out alone. You know any one of us would come get you when you’re done with work. I know Hughes told Mrs. Hughes the same thing. Betting General Jackass didn’t tell Riza, though.”

“Because she’d shoot anyone getting too close, and I wouldn’t.” At his look, she spread her hands. “I get it. I’ll try, Ed,” Winry replied.

“I know you’re independent, Winry.” He took her hands in his. “You’re brave, too. But please, for me. I’d feel better if you were with someone you knew - we knew - rather than by yourself.”

Winry smiled before kissing him. “That is so sweet, Ed. You’re not going to whine if that someone is Dev, are you?”

“So long as he behaves. I’d even tolerate Mustang.” Ed’s smirk faded as he said, “I think he wants this guy more than anyone.”

“I can understand that,” Winry said and Ed made a face. “What? I said yes to this!”

“Not that. Cat on back! Help me!” Ed flailed, trying to get the enormous fluffy creature off his back.

“She loves your braid. What can I say? Quit flailing around. You’re scaring her.” Winry managed to pry Ragazza Bella off Ed’s back. She cuddled the cat, who purred at her, and reached up with one paw to tap Winry on the chin. 

Ed scowled, stepping back to get out of Rags’ reach. “Damn thing. I hate that cat.”

“Ignore him, Ragazza. He’s just temperamental.” Winry kissed the cat’s furry head.

“I’m probably bleeding,” Ed pouted.

Winry poured the cat out of her arms, then slapped Ed’s butt. “Go get changed. I’ll check to see if you’re bleeding.”

Ed grinned wickedly. “If I’m getting undressed with you…”

“Al is?”

“At Mustang’s already.” He hooked a thumb in the general direction of the mansion. 

Winry tugged his long hair. “You’re a naughty man, Edward Elric.”

“See, you already know that didn’t change with the years.”

Winry snorted, chasing him into his bedroom.

XXX

“I think I overstepped myself a little.”

Roy started. The den, warmed by the crackling fire, had been quiet for so long, he had gotten lost in his own thoughts. Setting down the cup of hard cider Pinako had sent along with Winry, he turned his attention to Alphonse. “How so?”

Al kept his eyes on the fireplace. “I told Ed I might come here and live in the guest room here without asking you.”

“He and Winry being too loud?” Roy shot him a knowing look.

Al rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his cider. “Ed needs a gag. Dev suggested you had some.”

“Dev needs to keep out of my things,” Roy grumbled, squirming back against his chair, trying to get comfortable. His back ached from being out in the cold with the body the other night. It was a reminder he’d never quite got back to normal after nearly dying in the bombing last year.

“I don’t envy Winry getting one into that big mouth. Still, I shouldn’t have suggested coming here out of the blue like that.” Al sighed.

“Al, if Winry would like to stay at the cottage on a more permanent basis, I’m fine with you staying here. This place is so big, we’d hardly notice. Besides, Miao-Yin likes having you around,” Roy said and the young man blushed.

“It’s not like that!” he protested.

“Funny, that’s what Dev said the other day when you were all trapped here.” Roy laughed. “And Yi-Lan did leave me in charge of defending my niece’s honor, though between me and you, that only applies to Dev. You’re fine.”

Al snorted. “Poor Dev.”

“Not my fault he’s not allowed to date alchemists.”

Al nodded. “I guess the real question is will Ragazza like Hayate.”

“Hayate likes cats, though he does think barking at them to get them to play with him is a good idea.” Roy shrugged. “Ragazza is big enough to eat Hayate so…”

“Well, maybe I’ll just come over on the nights Winry is staying. Ed can take care of Ragazza.”

“Your brother hates that cat,” Roy reminded him, hiding his smile in his cup.

“He hates lots of things, but he likes me, so he’ll feed Ragazza.” Al put the cider bottle on the table. “He’s still mad about being under suspicion in those deaths.”

“He damn well knows he’s not, but this is the military. There are plenty of other things he can be doing rather than that case.” Roy let his head drop back against the couch pillows. “It just keeps things neater that way.”

“I think the plenty of other things means working with you,” Al replied.

Roy snorted. “Technically, he’s always supposed to be working with me. Ed’s lucky I let Hughes borrow him at all.”

“True. Still, I know it’s bothering him. It has to be bothering you, too.” Al peered at Roy.

“Don’t ask me what I know about this, Al. I don’t know a damn thing. I went out there with Hughes and,” he shook his head, disgusted, “nothing. I just don’t know why this person is going through all this trouble to point out his kills to me. I don’t know a lot of killers.” Roy felt his gut tighten. That was a lie. “All right, I know plenty of killers, but they’re all military. None of whom would steal shoes.”

“No one?” Al scowled. “Not that I know anyone who is a fan of shoes, except maybe a couple girls.”

“There was this one guy in the academy who liked to sniff shoes. I didn’t quite get that. I have no idea where he is now.” Roy climbed out of his chair to go to his desk and got out a pad of paper, writing the man’s name down. “Guess I should mention that to Hughes.”

“Do you think it could be him?”

“Al, honestly, I have no idea. I remember Gregory as a fun-loving guy, but I’m not even sure he survived the war.

Al nodded, his expression taking on a contemplative cast. “Are you sure it’s not a problem if I stay here some nights?”

“I’m sure. I like having people around, Alphonse. I’ve lived alone for a long time.” Roy crossed his arms. “Having a full house reminds me of when I was little with all my sisters, Mom and Dad. Granddad and his princess would come by often. The house would be alive with noise. I didn’t realize how much I missed that until now.”

With a smile, Al said, “That I can understand, all too well. It’s nice to be back home, even though I don’t get to see Winry all that often, or at least not as often as I hear her.”

Roy chuckled. “You probably won’t hear us here.”

“I’ll just assume Riza has you gagged.”

“Don’t make me trade you for Dev.” Roy pointed at him. “I can, you know.” 

“Speaking of which, Dev seems to have taken a step back. He wasn’t using his cane that much, but I saw him earlier, and he leaning heavily on it.” His brows knit together. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to him.”

“He fell. Won’t go to the doctor. Gave his mom lip about it.” Roy shook his head at that. “She should have just socked him. I think he’s little depressed because all that progress seems to have been wiped out.”

“Have Miao-Yin talk to him,” Al suggested. He peered at Roy over the rim of his cup. “I know the sweater she should wear when she does.”

“I’ll find you a nice apartment somewhere, you bad boy.”

Al laughed. It had been a long time since Roy heard the young man laugh and sound like he really was happy and not just going through the motions. Having him around would be nice.

XXX

“Is the bastard asleep, Dev?”

The sound of Ed’s voice jerked Roy out of his trance, memories slipping away like fish in a stream. He had a headache from trying to summon forth past acquaintances who would know he found feet sexy. With his luck, that had nothing to do with the killings, and he was running down the wrong path and taking Maes and Alex Louis with him. Rubbing his eyes – his glass eye slipped around a bit - he fumbled for the coffee cup on his desk. “I’m trying to remember what I can about the alchemists on the list the Ishbalans wanted.”

“I know that remembering can be a difficult task when people get to be your age,” Ed said with exaggerated sweetness.

“And it doesn’t help that he’s half insane,” Dev said. “Because looking at that list, the lot of you alchemists either suicide or end up in asylums. You’re all mad.”

“Hey! I’ve only met a handful of Ishbalan priests and none of you are too stable!” Ed protested. 

Roy grinned as they bickered. He enjoyed those moments when they stopped picking on him and turned on each other.

“Should you be just sitting there, sir?”

Roy spun his chair around, seeing Riza standing in his office doorway, an attaché in hand. “I’m not ‘sir’ to you any more. And I’m thinking.”

 

“You do it so little, that’s why she didn’t recognize the look,” Ed called.

So much for the little moment when he wasn’t a target. “Why are you here, Riza?”

She put the attaché on his desk, making him groan before she even opened it. “The Fuhrer sent more work for you.”

Roy groaned loudly, sinking in his chair. “And she couldn’t use one of her other men? Shouldn’t you be protecting her?”

“Miles is there and maybe I wanted to see my husband.”

“Ah.” Roy grinned. 

“ _Not_ for that,” she replied, and he heard Havoc snicker in the anteroom.

“There are other reasons to see me?” Roy asked before he could stop his tongue. He braced for impact.

Riza’s lips thinned. “I can’t think of one at the moment.” 

“Can I start again?” Roy made a puppy face at her. 

“You better before she makes me and Ed very happy by shooting you.” Dev hobbled over, using his cane. “Anything in there I need to be concerned with?”

“No.” Riza eyed him. “You’re limping badly.”

“Fell on the ice. It pisses me off.” He sighed, and gestured toward Roy. “Thought dumbass would have told you.”

“We have better things to do than spend our nights talking about you.” Roy shrugged. “I told Miao-Yin. She wants to see you.”

Dev nodded, his ruby eyes brightening at the mention of Roy’s niece. “Fine. When you’re done with whatever Riza brought, think you can tell me when you’ll have that list done? Uzziel will want an update when I get back to the Center.”

“I’m getting there. I have all the dead or committed ones that I know of on this list, and a list of ones I’m sure would welcome contact. It’s this group I’m not so sure of.” Roy tapped it.

Dev peered at it, then frowned. 

Roy peered up at him, seeing the young man’s expression change. “What?”

“That name, does it say John Pandur?”

Roy nodded. “The Whip Alchemist.”

“I remember him,” Riza said. “He was quiet, sort of sad.”  
His alchemy was originally meant for healing, but naturally the military had more use for that alchemy turned inside out.”

“He could do human transmutation?” Ed’s eyes widened.

“Minor. Marcoh was better, but John knew how to make small cuts,” Roy said. “In the right places, they were deadly. And he was sad a lot. He wasn’t a bad guy but…oh, hell.”

“What?” Dev asked.

“He and I talked some nights, often after a little too much moonshine. He knows my secrets,” Roy said in a low whisper. 

“That you’re a pervert? Is it really a secret?” Ed asked.

“About the feet? Yes. Wonder where he is. I’ll have to add him to the list with Gregory when Hughes calls.” Roy stalked around the room, trying to figure out how he had so completely forgotten this man. If he hadn’t been so busy trying to bury his past maybe at least one of the women would still be alive.

“I don’t have to wonder where he is. He works at Central Hospital with my mother. I’ve met him,” Dev said, his voice cracking, his face pale. 

“Are you sure?” Roy asked.

“I’ve met a John Pandur, but I had no idea he was an alchemist. He works as a medic. Mustang, he has an automail hand!”

“He was captured by Ishbalans, wasn’t he, Roy?” Riza turned to him.

Roy nodded. “They tortured him for days before cutting off one of his hands. They were going after the other when we rescued him. I was in on that. He was sent back, and I know he was in an asylum for a while before they released him. Central Hospital.”

“Yeah, worse, I sent him to Winry,” Dev groaned.

Ed grabbed his arm, spinning Dev around. “You did what?”

“His hand was old. She just replaced it for him,” Dev said, yanking free of Ed’s grasp.

“The fucking automail oil,” Ed growled.

“You call Winry. See if she still has the old hand,” Roy said. “I’ll call Hughes. Dev, where is your mother?”

“Roy, she’s at the hospital.” Dev went pale.

“Call her. Find out if he’s there, but you can’t let him get wind that we suspect him.” Roy stabbed a finger at him.

“She’s my mother. I’m warning her. Don’t worry, Ishbalans have gotten good at keeping secrets,” Dev said, stumbling in his haste. He yelped, steadying himself on his cane.

“I’m going with you, Roy,” Riza said.

“I didn’t even say I was going.”

“As if you’d let Hughes handle this himself.” She waved him off.

“You’re not military any more.” Roy knew that was a hollow protest. He wanted her at his side but he worried. Something was a little off. He worried she might be getting the bug that had given him pneumonia. “If the Fuhrer allows it, I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else but with me.”

“If you get maudlin, your men will mock you.” Riza nodded toward the anteroom.

“Right.” Roy nodded. “Ed, Dev, make your calls, then I’ll call Hughes once we know where John is.”

“If this is the killer, what are you going to do?” Ed asked.

Roy’s jaw hardened. “Stop him any way I can.”


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

“You’re sure about this,” Maes said, stopping Roy from going through the doors to the emergency room. 

“I’m sure. That reporter published photos of both you and Strongarm,” Roy replied and his friends both scowled. 

“Pain in the ass,” Maes muttered.

Roy nodded. “I know. John was no fool. Most alchemists are fairly intelligent,” he said, ignoring the twin snorts from Dev and Ed. “John wasn’t particularly violent, but being tortured and maimed changes a man. I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“You sound like you almost feel sorry for him.” Maes’s eyes were hard behind his lenses.

“In a way, I do. That war turned too many of us into monsters, but if he’s the one killing these women, that is what he is. I’m the best person to stop him. He wanted to get my attention, after all. You or Armstrong would only spook him.”

“But you’re taking a man who can barely walk.” Maes jerked his chin at Dev.

“My mom is working the same floor with him,” Dev grumbled. “I’m going. Besides, I’m pretending I’m hurt. She’ll come look after me and be away from him.”

“You’re not pretending,” Roy reminded him. “I think you did mess up your leg and should have come here two days ago.”

“And I’ll be with him just in case things go wrong,” Ed said. “I sent Al after Winry just in case this guy left early. If he’s here and he can sneak alchemy past Mustang, I can protect any of the innocents we can’t just get out of there without alerting the guy.”

“And I’ll be there,” Riza said quietly. “Pretending to be ill.”

Roy wondered just how much of that was pretend. “We have it covered.”

“Yeah,” Hughes sighed. “I just don’t like sitting out when I’m the one who should be arresting him.” He brushed a hand over his lapel. “I’m incognito, after all.”

Only Hughes would think a purple suit would make him an everyman. Roy shrugged. “Fine, pull the hat down low and take off your glasses. And stay the hell back. Hopefully he’ll think you’re in for a psych consult in that suit.”

Maes made a face then turned back to his men, giving them orders to be waiting outside the emergency room, orders he should have been taking himself. Roy left him and went into the emergency room. It was more crowded than he hoped for. Most of the people looked rampagingly ill with the same killer cough he had so recently suffered from, or were moaning and crying, holding various limbs in awkward angles. Winter claimed a lot of casualties. He signaled for his companions to hang back, sit down, look like patients, do what they had discussed. Roy only trusted Riza to obey orders and follow the plan.

He spotted Hala working the front desk, apparently triaging patients. Roy didn’t recognize the man giving orders to a younger nurse at first. John had aged since Roy had seen him, but then again it had been well over fifteen years, and John was older than Roy. Roy had been the youngest State Alchemist until Edward. Many of the men he served with had been a decade his senior. 

Roy walked up to the front desk and Hala handed him a clipboard and paperwork like a pro. Well, she was, he supposed.

“Fill it out and have a seat. We’ll get you in to the see the doctor in order of seriousness of your aliment,” she said, in a half-bored tone but he could see the worry in her ruby eyes as she pretended sudden recognition. “Oh, Ambassador, I’m sorry. Is something wrong?”

“Your son fell and we brought him in.” Roy jerked a thumb toward the back of the waiting room. “He can fill out his own paperwork.”

“Is he hurt badly?” Hala turned to John and said. “John, can you man the desk for a few minutes? My son fell. I’m going to go check on him.”

“Sure.” John turned, his eyes widening. There was no doubt he recognized Roy. “Flame?”

Roy blinked. “Do I know…oh my god, Whip? Is that you?”

A huge grin spread across John’s face and he stuck out his automail hand. Roy shook it. 

“I can’t believe it’s you, Mustang. What are you doing here?”

“It’s being a bad day. I work with Hala’s son.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hala get halfway around the desk before a doctor stopped her, officiously ordering her back to work. 

“You checking out Hala?” John grinned, picking up on Roy’s interest.

He winced. He should know better than to be so obvious. “What can I say? She’s older than me but she’s hot. Hang on a moment. I want to catch up, but I have to do something first,” Roy said, moving over to the doctor’s side. “Doctor, this woman’s son could use your help.”

“Soldier, you don’t tell me what do in this hospital,” he replied.

“General, and do I really have to pull all the many strings I could to make your life miserable when you could do the nice thing and help one of your nurses with her injured son?” Roy smiled, as cold as the wind outside.

The man sputtered but let Hala lead him back toward where Dev sat. Roy watched her lean in, whispering something. The doctor looked back alarmed, then started moving faster. Roy just hoped she could stop him at Dev’s side long enough to be convincing. He’d best distract John again just in case.

“Sorry about that. I had no idea you were back in Central working,” Roy said, casting one last glance back at Hala.

“For a couple years now, not quite what I wanted to be doing, but the research.” John frowned. “It makes me anxious thinking about doing alchemic research. I can still do what I used to, but I’m even rusty at that.”

“I know what you mean. The war put me off learning anything new for a long time.” Roy scowled. “Didn’t really feel like an alchemist any more.”

John nodded knowingly, pulling a chart off the desk and handing it to a nurse who approached them. She went off to call the person back to the treatment area. “I saw the newspapers with all your wedding photos. I remember Hawkeye from those days. You sure you want to be eyeing up Ishbalan nurses when she’s not looking?”

Roy laughed “Fair point. She’s here, too. We were taking her out to the car when Dev fell. He’s not particularly steady on his feet. The war didn’t treat him well either.”

“Did it treat anyone well?” John asked bitterly, turning to look over the waiting room. “She looks tired”

Roy frowned. John was sharper than he remembered. He sure as hell hoped John didn’t spot Maes as well. A crowded waiting room was no place for an alchemy battle. “I was just in this hospital a few weeks ago with pneumonia. I’m hoping she doesn’t have the same bug.”

John turned back. “Could be. Could be pregnant, she has that look.”

Roy’s mouth dropped, involuntarily twisting back to look at his wife. Why the hell had he never thought about that? Mostly because tired could be anything and that was the only complain Riza had mentioned. “I didn’t think of that. Certainly possible. That would be better than her getting sick with pneumonia, too.”

John nodded. “I’ll be honest; I was surprised to hear you got married. You had a certain reputation. We used to talk about it back then, remember?”

Roy’s mouth felt suddenly dry, but he managed to say, “Yes, I do. That was a long time ago.”

“Hawkeye was a pretty thing, still is. Always wondered what her feet looked like under those boots. Guess you’re lucky enough to know.”

Roy smiled, shaking a finger at John. “They are very nice and they’re all mine.”

“Wouldn’t dream otherwise.” John held up his hands. “I know you were here in the hospital a lot last year. I thought about coming up to see you, even though it wasn’t my floor. I wasn’t sure if you’d welcome a visit from someone from that…time.”

Roy wondered if things might have turned out a little differently if John had. The killings seemed to be a new thing, unless the alchemist had done it wherever he had lived before moving back to Central. “It would have been okay. I came to see you when you were…recovering. I’m not sure you remember that.”

“Barely. I thought it might even be a dream. They had me on a lot of medications.” John glanced down at his metal hand, flexing the finger. “I didn’t have this hand then either. Well, any hand, not this one. This one is new. Hala’s son introduced me to his automail mechanic, surprisingly pretty, Most of the ones I knew were burly creatures.”

“Ah, Miss Rockbell. Yes, she is lovely, a bit young for my tastes but still. She’s my mechanic, too. Lost a leg a couple years back.”

John shot him a pitying look. “That is never easy.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you decided to get married. I’m still looking for that special one, you know?” John stared at Roy. “You really _do_ know, don’t you? About collecting?”

“Most alchemists know that. I have met very few who didn’t collect something,” Roy said, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to wait for a time where there were less people about. John was nearly there and the fight could start at any time.

“Do you know that Ishbalans believe the energies of our bodies can imbue inanimate objects with power? Centuries ago, they would knock down an entire wall in a room where someone died, so the spirit wouldn’t linger. They wouldn’t take old furniture for fear of some spiritual power clinging to it.”

Roy shook his head. “I work with priests every day, but they tell me little about their beliefs. I think they believe I’ll ridicule them for it.”

“Others would seek out these special objects for the power. The more violent the death, the more powerful the object. I thought you should know that,” John said, his hand disappearing into the pocket of his hospital uniform. “You would understand. I’m sure of that.”

Roy moved just as John’s hand came up, something metal clutched in it. He used a method of attack his grandfather had taught him when he was young, quick and efficient with no collateral damage. Roy struck the side of his hand against John’s carotid, pressing tight. The man yelped, stumbling back a step. Roy moved with him, keeping the pressure on. It felt like minutes when he knew it was only seconds. John passed out. Roy barely caught the man before he crashed into the desk.

“Got him?” Maes hollered.

“Yes.”

Maes disappeared out the swinging doors then returned with Armstrong and the rest of their men. Armstrong had a small stockade that would keep John’s hands separated. Roy fished up the amulet John had dropped, running a finger over the rune, memorizing it. He and Al could benefit from the reverse of this transmutation circle as they researched healing alchemy.

“That was easier than I expected,” Maes said, staring down at his prisoner.

“Easy for you to say. He’s rather mad,” Roy said. “Talking about some Ishbalan belief that death can make objects powerful, know what he’s talking about, Dev?”

“Old superstition,” the young man said, hobbling up with Ed and Hala in tow. “What did he want to make powerful?”

“The shoes, I would guess. That was his thing.” Roy shrugged as Riza came up to him.

“And why would he think you’d understand that.” Ed glared at the fallen man, horror in his gold eyes.

“He just did.”

“For no reason?” Dev pressed.

“He probably assumed the general likes to incorporate shoes and toes into his sex play,” Hala said and Roy blushed.

“You came up with that too fast for comfort, Mom.” Dev wrinkled his nose.

“You can imagine the sexual misadventures we see coming through here,” Hala said then wagged a finger at Roy. “And I heard what you said about me.”

Dev whipped around to face Roy. “What did you say about my mother?”

“That she’s hot.”

Dev pushed him. “Stay away from my mother.”

Roy sighed, leaning against Riza. “Mrs. Jasso, now that we have your idiot son in the hospital, maybe you should make him see a doctor to be sure he didn’t rebreak that leg when he fell.”

“Don’t you worry. Come along, son. That bullet did a lot of damage. Your leg is still fragile.” Hala caught Dev’s arm, pulling him away from the desk. Dev sputtered something about not getting to see how it all ended, but Roy wasn’t sure what else there was to see.

“That was a cool move you used on him, Mustang,” Ed said. “He doesn’t look scary. I guess I thought he would.”

“Looking human is what makes monsters so very scary,” Maes said.

Roy nodded, reaching for Riza’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

Her brow knit. “What’s with all the concern? I’m fine, Roy.”

“You’ve been so tired lately.”

“And now I’m not. Never underestimate how tiring you can be.” She smiled. “Just like your sisters are always saying.”

He snorted at her teasing. “Fine. I guess you and Armstrong can take it from here, Maes.”

His friend’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure we can.”

Roy held up his hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound so dickish.”

“You can’t help it. It’s what you are,” Ed said. “Show me how that move works some time.”

“Can’t be revealing Xingese fighting techniques to a non-Xingese.” Roy smirked and Riza nudged him.

“See, there’s the dick.” Ed shrugged. “I’ll just ask your niece.”

“Be my guest. She’s likely to use it on you.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “I’ll go tell Al and Winry it’s over – provided, of course, you didn’t just knock out an innocent man since we have almost no proof. Speaking of which, Winry thinks she still has his old hand in the scrap bin, not that I’m sure it helps much.”

“Proves it leaked. That might be enough. I think this guy wants to talk, if only to you, Roy,” Maes said.

“If that’s what it takes, I can come to the interrogations,” Roy said.

“You may have to.” Maes smirked. “I’m not sure Alex Louis or I could convincingly talk about feet being sexy.”

“Go to hell. If I’m done, I’m taking my wife home.”

“You have to write reports about this first,” Riza countered. “You’re going to your office.”

Roy’s shoulders slumped, but he let her lead him away. He glanced back at the Whip Alchemist as Hughes’s men brought over a gurney to cart him out on. He couldn’t help wondering if the war drove John to murder or was it always there, just lurking in the corners of his tortured mind? 

XXX

“Sorry if we’re the last ones here,” Ed said, stomping the snow off his boots outside on the porch. His golden eyes took on a wicked gleam. “Al had to make himself pretty.”

Al shoved Ed inside Roy’s house. Roy neatly sidestepped the brothers. “Shut up.”

With a sudden cloud of moisture, the remaining snow succumbed to the brothers’ transmutation from solid to gaseous state, leaving their foot gear house-safe by Riza’s standards.

“We just better not get trapped here again,” Ed grumbled.

“What my brother means is thanks for asking us here for dinner.” Al shucked his coat.

“You’re barely in the house and you’re already causing trouble.” Winry tsked, coming into the foyer, an apron draped over her body.

“You’re the one who wants to put up with this. Don’t look at us,” Roy said and she swatted his arm.

“As if Riza doesn’t put up with the same. Come on, we’re about ready to eat,” Winry said.

“Ed! Al!” Elicia came barreling out of the living room, leaping on Ed, who caught her in an embrace.

“You get bigger every day, Elicia.” Al ruffled her hair as Ed struggled to extricate himself.

“I do. Daddy measures me against the door!”

“Our mom used to do that until Ed started crying because he never grew.” Al grinned until Ed reached over and cuffed him on the back of the head.

Winry sighed. “Try not to fight until after dinner. I’m sure by then Dev will be ready to help.”

“I plan on throwing at least two of them out in the snow before long,” Roy said.

“And I’m sure Riza will send you right after.” Winry gave him a look.

Roy laughed, herding his guests toward the dining room. Dev, Alex Louis and Maes were already seated. Winry took Elicia back into the kitchen. “You’re not helping?”

“The women said we were dangerous and sent us out here,” Maes said.

“Probably true. Have a seat, boys. I’ll go see if they need any help,” Roy said.

“Don’t bother. You’re worse than the whole lot of them,” Li-Ying called from the kitchen.

“Fine, I’ll sit and be lazy,” Roy called back.

“You are the expert at that.”

Roy sat at the table, looking at Armstrong. “And you wish to date that sword-tongued woman, why?”

“She is quite a lovely woman,” Alex Louis said. “And she does not treat me the way she does you.” His mustache twitched as he smiled. “I suppose I am better behaved.”

Roy snorted. “You’re definitely more genteel. I’m just glad everyone could be here for the celebration. It’s not quite mid-winter yet, but we’re celebrating early. Certainly cold enough. And we’re celebrating the closing of your first major case since you’ve been…back, Hughes.”

“He confessed then?” Ed asked, leaning his elbows on the table in his eagerness to find out the answer.

Maes nodded. “With Roy’s help. He seemed anxious to tell his story. He’ll be committed to a high security asylum that specializes in dealing with you alchemists. They assured us he’ll never be released.”

“And they assured us Kimblee was dead when he wasn’t.” Roy eyed Armstrong again. “I certainly hope your sister’s administration is more honest.”

“As do I, Flame.”

“How in the hell did he manage to adopt a purely Ishbalan custom, and an ancient one at that, as his reason for killing to imbue those shoes with power?” Dev asked. “And for what purpose?”

“The high? The imaginary perfect woman? I have no idea. He _is_ insane.” Roy got back up and took one of the open bottles of wine off the side board. He started pouring glasses. “I guess when he was at the mercy of those Ishbalan priests, the power they had over him made an impression. Maybe he studied Ishbalan culture along with Xingese when he was learning his alchemy. I don’t know. I suppose I could always ask him. He wanted me to visit, part of the confession hinged on the promise that I would.”

“Better you than me,” Maes said, with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, still there might be something in his research that Alphonse, Miao-Yin and I can use in regards to healing alchemy.” Roy shrugged.

“Yes, because it worked out so well for Pandur,” Dev rolled his eyes.

“Alphonse and Miao-Yin are more stable. I have Ishbalans torturing me daily, so I’m more of a risk,” Roy admitted, giving Dev the hairy eye.

“Glad to be of help,” Dev replied as Li-Ying and Miao-Yin came out, carrying trays of soup.

“This is a traditional soup,” Li-Ying said, “Sweet with equally sweet rice flour balls in them.”

“I’m getting the wine, less traditional since the last time I gave rice wine to some of you, you whined it was lighter fluid.” Roy snickered.

The women doled out the bowls before settling down, Winry between the brothers and Miao-Yin to Al’s other side. Hala set next to her son and the rest of the women took up spots next to their lovers. Roy gestured to Maes who popped up and hefted the tripod that had been leaning against the sideboard.

He set up the camera and rejoined them. “It’s on timer. Smile.”

Everyone turned dutifully to the camera and grinned. They sat frozen until the flash blinded them.

“I can not believe I’m in family pictures with _you_ , Mustang,” Hala said, making a face.

“Definitely unexpected but welcome, nonetheless,” he agreed. “And we owe you and Dev a thank you. If you hadn’t actually known John, we wouldn’t have caught…” Roy trailed off, looking into Elicia’s young face. “the bad guy.”

“It was just coincidence,” Dev said.

“Many cases are solved that way. Just a random bit of information you overhear and the pieces fall into place,” Maes replied.

“I don’t think I’d be cut out for your job,” Dev said, tasting his soup. “Okay, this is really good. Why didn’t we ever think of sweet soups when I was a kid?”

“Because you’d be fatter than a house by now with your sweet tooth,” his mother replied.

Once the soup was polished off, Roy poured more wine and Riza and his kin went back to bring out more food. Li-Ying set up three hot pots within easy reach and Roy started the fire under them. Several other platters joined the ranks.

“You just take the skewer and put it in the sauce. It’ll cook fast,” Roy said. “This plate is tea-smoked duck. Those are noodles and vegetables with a garlic sauce and that reddish chicken dish is made with peppers of death. Consider that a warning.”

“Ishbalans do eat hot cuisine more often than not,” Dev reminded him, helping himself to a small portion of the chicken. He popped one piece into his mouth then made a face.

“You heard me warn him, Hala,” Roy said.

“My son makes his own choices. On the upside, now that you’ve probably given him third degree burns on his tongue from the looks of his face, maybe you’ll have a quiet evening,” the nurse replied, wagging her head.

“That is insane,” Dev rasped, red-faced.

“That’s not even as hot as we could have made it. It’s traditionally even hotter,” Li-Ying said.

“Does it melt the pot when you’re done?” Gracia laughed.

“If it’s done right,” she grinned.

Roy raised his wine glass. “A quick toast. Here’s to another success. Improving the world is a never ending battle so we should celebrate where we can.”

After the ‘here, here’s’ and the clinking of glasses, they gave the lavish meal the attention it deserved. Afterward, Roy got the men to help him clear the table and do the dishes. By the time he had gotten to the living room, his sister had started sticks of incense on the mantle in front of their parents’ photo. She explained it to the men when Alphonse asked. As talk of honoring the dead faded away, and the younger members of the gathering argued over which game they could all play, Roy sat next to Riza on the couch. He draped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

What he really was thinking about were John’s words. But he couldn’t talk to Riza about that now. If he asked her if she were pregnant in front of everyone, she’d probably hit him. If she said yes, he’d cry. No way in hell was he going to cry in front of Ed and Dev. Even Maes would torment him and Alex Louis would probably hug him until ribs broke. Maybe she really was simply tired. Either way, that would have to wait.

“That I’m the luckiest man alive some days.” He kissed her.

“Oh god!” Dev groaned

“No one wants to see that!” Ed added.

“Some of us do,” Riza replied, laughing.

As they dragged out a board game that Elicia could play yet wouldn’t bore the adults, Roy realized his words were so very true. He could have easily ended up like John, half mad, a danger to himself and others. Instead, here he was surrounded by friends and family, in spite of all the horrible things he had done. He was luckier than he knew. What man could ask for more?


End file.
